Fairy Tale Epic
by Elfkid
Summary: An AU of Epic proportions in medievel setting. Storm, Gambit,and Cable centered, cameos by many of heroes and villains. Chapter 20 up!
1. Homecoming

Author's Note:

If you read the title, you'll know this is not a run of the mill fanfic. It is an Elseworld set in medieval times only with elves, mages, and trolls and all those fun creatures and of course, normal humans as well.

I tried my best to give the main characters a way to have their power as well different ways to integrate things you would recognize from the normal Marvel timeline and some things that are totally out in left field from all you know (just to warn you if something seems wacky, I'm pretty familiar with Marvel timeline but to totally copy it into an Elseworld would be quite burdensome and near impossible to fit the kind of story I'm going for- but I promise it won't hurt too much).

Remember: A fortnight is 40 days and nights. Elves are immortal unless scathed mortally by wound, incurable illness, or cursed… also, as long as they remain in Elden. Humans live about 70-80 years. Vampires, of course, are eternal unless they are in sunlight. Finally, Faeries are eternal as well.

PLEASE: If you lose interest, please leave feedback to explain why! I want to know what my writing lacks. Thank you!

MAIN CHARACTERS: Storm, Nathan Dayspring, Apocalypse (had to have a bad guy), Gambit, and other various characters sprinkled throughout.

Now shall we begin?

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Chapter 1

Electricity crackles from within the woods, and a brilliant light illuminates the forest path taken by a dark warrior maiden. She emerges from the wood to the crisp, cool air of the night and marvels at the brilliance of the scattered stars in the sky. The light provided by her clenched fist dissipates as she relies on the moon to aid her way home to Elden- home of elves, mythical place hidden within an enchanted wood that can only be imagined by most of the Outworld. Her white horse maintains a steady pace; as horse and rider create an interesting spectacle in the sleeping town- were there anyone awake to see it. They wind through the dark, deserted streets of the city under the silver moon, the horse still remembering the path after so many years. She breathes in deeply of the pure air and once more tells herself, "It's good to be home."

As she reaches the palace, she cannot believe how little it's changed in the 13 years she's been gone. The ivy still snakes up the towers, fireflies dance around the gardens, and the fountain still bubble in the same rhythm- not even the crumbling statue of the dragon that once guarded Elden has degenerated further. Not even before her feet touch the ground does Jean rush out and hug her in a warm embrace.

"Easy there- you'll snap my ribcage even in this armor! It's nice to be welcome back home!"

"It's about time you've come home- we've been waiting for ages- and you couldn't have picked a better or worse time- take your pick."

She shakes her head at Jean, perplexedly as she struggles with unlatching the saddle from the horse. "Whatever are you talking about?"

Jean's green eyes droop in sadness. "Ororo, Achmed's dying."

It takes several seconds for her brain to process the statement just made by her best friend. When it clicks, tears spring to her eyes and she breathes in sharply, feeling a lump form in her throat and tightness in her chest.

"I'm really sorry, Ororo. When you sent a messenger to say you were coming, we had no way of contacting you mid-journey…"

"Is he in his bedroom?"

"Yes. He's sleeping."

"Then let me know when he wakes. I'll be in the mage loft… I need… some time alone."

"I understand. You'll be the first to know when he awakes."

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"Mistress Ororo… the King wishes to see you now."

The spell the blazing fireplace held upon the young warrior being addressed was broken and she turned her face form the light and heat, her face cooling in the darkness. "Thank-you, Katya." She heads for the doorway and pauses, placing a weary hand on the girl's shoulder. "Kitten, how is he faring?" The normally cold warrior holds her friend's brown eyed gaze in a desperate, almost frightening intensity.

"He… is not improving. The Healer believes he will die tonight- if not within the hour."

The only noise following the statement is the snap of a log in the fireplace and sparks filter up the chimney. After Ororo exits the room, Kitty collapses on the floor and sobs, tears cascading down her cheeks for the dying Father of Elden.

She enters the room reservedly, not knowing what to expect. Candles and incense burn everywhere, giving off the scent of the forest meadows. "My lord…" Her voice is steady and she thanks the Great Faerie for that much.

"You know such formality is not needed between us."

She smiles through her coming tears. "Father Achmed."

"Come here, Ororo. Don't linger in the doorway."

Her worn leather boots tread softly on the thick oak panels of the floor and the candles flicker as she passes them. She reaches the bedside and kneels. Finally, she is able to see his face. It has been three months since he fell ill and twelve years since she has seen him last. The once robust, lively man lay bedridden- forced to have someone spoon feed him soft foods and wet his lips with a sponge so he could just drink water. The illness has left his body ravaged and frail.

_He's so fragile,_ she thinks of her formerly invincible father as she clasps his bony hand in her brown one. _And his hands like ice…_ "Father, are you cold?"

"No, no. Are my hands cold again?" he coughs and Ororo holds her kerchief to his mouth, pretending it is not blood she wipes from his lips and chin. He continues,

"They go on and off- warm to cold, nothing to fret about if it can't be helped."

"I've missed you," she says quietly, rubbing his hands to warm them somewhat. Her heart aches to will her youthful strength into his body, to kill whatever it is that is taking him from her.

His grey eyebrows arch, and in his blindness, he tries his best to look towards her. "You? I find that hard to believe. When you left, you said…"

"Evil, spiteful things- words you did not deserve and I'm so sorry I did not hold my tongue. My temper has been tamed, somewhat, since then. I cannot apologize enough."

"No need- I know you were angry. And I too am sorry. For arranging your marriage to En Sabah Nur when it made you so unhappy. I should've have been a father before being a king."

"That's just the beginning of the fairy tale in this kingdom."

He chuckles and raises a hand up to her face, reaching to stroke her long platinum hair, only to grasp nothing. "Ororo… your hair…"

"I had to sell something to buy food when I first set out, not many people willing to offer reputable work to a fifteen year old girl. I later decided to keep it short- it has its advantages in combat," she laughs nervously.

"Geddes and Nymon," he muses. "I've heard of your good leadership skills in the battlefield- most reports were of your ability to connect with all the people, victims, or warriors. You get that from your mother." He leaned in closer, "You may not know it, but I lost 27 of the best warriors I could hire from the Outlands keeping track of you. Never knew they'd need protected instead." He giggled gleefully and then turned serious, "Ororo, please take my throne when I pass to Tara, heaven."

Tears sting her eyes and she wipes them away, refusing to cry in his presence. _Be strong, Ororo. Everyone dies… Great Fairy give me strength!_ She tries her best to not stumble on her words. "I will, father. I'll try to rule as you have."

"No- you must rule as _you_ would, Ororo. I may be blind, but I am not deaf and my messengers have brought many counts of trouble brewing in the out-world and soon, or maybe many years from now, it will come to a boil- and my people need to be prepared. They're just farmers and tradesmen with magic. You, however, are a warrior and can educate them the skills they nee-." His body begins to writhe in another, more severe coughing fit. Cecilia, the Healer, rushes in and he waves her away, knowing it is futile and he has but moments left.

"Cecilia, Ororo is… the... l-leader of Elden now." He struggles hard with the words, obviously frustrated with his tongue. "Long live the Queen." He whispers up to her before he falls back on his satin pillows, eyes closing in eternal slumber.


	2. Turmoil

Chapter 2

"_I find myself drifting back to those final words my father and I had between each other. 12 years have passed since then and the kingdom has evolved to the best I could provide and manage. It was the greatest task I knew I would ever take upon myself- teaching an entire kingdom of elves who had never held a sword or weapon menacingly. Thanks be to Tania that I was able to teach the few who have helped spread those skills among the tribes. Every member of every clan in Elden is a formidable warrior. Even the children are trained since the day they turn three years old. Though Elden remains prosperous now, it appears those days are numbered. . ."_ She slams the pen down next to the open, leather-bound book and begins to pace the floor.

The Queen of Elves broods as no matter what she does, she cannot ignore the fact that war has begun. Less than an hour ago, she had received word that a small army, just a subordinate of En Sabah Nur's forces has overtaken the kingdom of Mera- a human fortress ruled by Lilandra and Charles Xavier. Their defense and Queen were slaughtered yet the King was allowed to live and taken prisoner.

She was not so concerned for the humans as she was that En Sabah Nur may strike Elden on his way to Ayden. It was common knowledge that bad blood lay between En Sabah Nur and King Dayspring of Ayden- Elden's human twin city. The war was most likely going to be directed his way the hardest. . .

"I'm afraid it's more than that, Ororo."

Ororo was jolted out of her thoughts at the sound of Jean's voice.

"My apologies but your frustration projected your thoughts and my magic picked them up. It appears we have your atypical warlord here. He has a bone to pick with the whole world- not just Dayspring and it looks like he's going for the whole "world domination" kick." She tossed a scroll at Ororo who snapped it from the air with her right hand.

Unraveling it, she read the war report on Nur's resources. Mages, Demons, Dwarves, Dragons…

"What are you thinking now?"

Ororo dropped the scroll and fell back onto her bed, her green robes fanning outwards. "If marrying this man wouldn't have been the wiser choice when I was 25 years younger."

Jean sat down beside her and placed a sympathetic hand on the woman's shoulder. "Nonsense- Elden would be a weak city lost in it's own ideals of peace and seclusion- and Nur would still be on this rampage only you'd be at home, feet propped up, waiting impatiently and pregnant with his 9th or 10th kid."

Ororo looked at her in disgust.

"Exactly."

"Thank-you for that disturbing picture Jean- I'll let you know when I'm able to safely dream again."

"Anytime." The fiery haired woman grinned with delight at having cheered her friend up somewhat.

"Ororo," Katya phased through the door. "There's a messenger form Ayden. He says he carries a message from King Dayspring- and it's urgent."

The Queen rose and stretched. "Thank-you, Kitten, I'll be down immediately." She turned to Jean, "I sense an alliance proposal."

"As if it would be anything else?"


	3. Conditions

Chapter 3

Ororo entered the grand hall of Elden palace. Everywhere, intricate carvings of vines and forest creatures covered the mahogany walls. Glass panels held in place by the carvings that wove between the panes, allowed sunlight to enter, illuminating it all. The rays of light fell upon bubbling fountains and water falls that cascaded down the walls, spilling into pools that contained rare and exotic fish. Even though the walls were devoid of real life, it held a magical air that forced you to believe it was breathing with the own rise and fall of your chest, its heart thundering in time with your own.

"Your Majesty," the tall, young, blonde messenger bowed low. Rather than a normal messenger's tunic, he was dressed in nothing less than battle armor, though no weapon was present.

Ororo nodded in acknowledgement and seated herself upon her throne. "I would think it rather unsafe to travel in complete battle gear in this day- one may take you as a hostile."

"All due respect, your highness, it has become dangerous to travel unprotected- and with what little humans know of the elfin forest…"

"Your message?" Her white eyebrows arched.

The messenger cleared his throat and began his message, voice accented from his life in the southern countries. "His royal majesty, King Nathan Dayspring of Ayden, requests your presence at his castle in Ayden within the fortnight to discuss a possible alliance between Elden and Ayden, in light of En Sabah Nur's successful attack on Mera."

Ororo remained silent for a moment, mulling over the idea with the time only afforded to a queen on such a matter. "I understand that at one time our cities were sisters were they not?"

"Yes, your highness."

"Until your ancestors, bent on dominance, tried to eradicate the Elvin race. Is that correct boy?" The final sentence rang out more as a threat than a question.

"Yes." His eyes fell to the floor in shame and hers gleamed mischievously.

"Very well. It is by sword they were divided and it is by sword they shall once more be united- granted that Ayden proves itself worthy to have Elden as an ally."

"Your majesty, what are you asking?"

Ororo's eyes sparkled wildly. "I'm saying I would like to see what kind of ally Ayden would provide to us. The only way an alliance will be formed is if Ayden's best swordsman comes here, to Elden within the fortnight, spars with our best swordsman, and Ayden wins. Otherwise, Elden has no reason to submit to alliance terms- we are capable of adequately defending ourselves in case of attack- and we do not wish to be burdened with a weaker ally that cannot provide mutual support."

"As you wish, Queen. I shall take your reply to my king immediately." He bowed low to the ground.

"Good then. I am eagerly waiting his reply. And to assure you and your king that my request is not of hostility, but of testing your lands worthiness as an ally, here is a parting gift." The Queen rose, extended her arms, and summoning her magic in the weather, the pool of water that separated her throne from the messenger began to swirl radically.

He stood transfixed as the waters parted and four glass jars emerged, hovering in the air. He noticed that the Queen's eyes had turned an emotionless white, the blue irises no longer visible and her long hair whipping wildly in a cyclone of wind though none of the air reached him.

"Now what you see before you are the four elements of the earth. Fire, earth, wind, and water."

She wasn't lying. A 'phoenix bird' blazed brightly in one of the hovering jars. The water was in the form of a rain cloud that flashed light and emitted a low, barley audible rumble every few seconds. The earth, rich dark soil gave life to a miniature tree slightly smaller than his palm. A cyclone swirled madly in the air jar.

"How…"

"Never mind how, dear boy. Take the gifts and if your King accepts, I expect him _here_ within the fortnight. I remind you that he shouldn't haste in rejecting my offer- Elden has evolved tremendously since Achmed's sovereignty. The gifts are beautiful, no?"

"Unspeakably."

She smiled. "But they are also deadly weapons. You see, I am not completely heartless and I understand his plight. If the occasion should arise, he need only to shatter the jar open and the power of the imprisoned element shall aid him- even if my people shall not."

"This gesture alone is sign enough of your honor, my lady. I shall give word to my king immediately." The blonde messenger bowed once more and departed the hall.

"Ororo, what is the meaning of this challenge?" Jean emerged from behind a curtain near the queen's throne. "You know the king has no time to waste on games like this."

"Jean, this is the perfect opportunity for me to see just what Ayden has to offer in combat and gain a view of what's occurring outside of the forest. Plus, I haven't had an outside opponent in ages- I could use the exercise. Thanks for the assist on my theatrics."

The red haired woman smiled. "I knew you didn't have that fine a control on your magic- and I didn't care to have the forces of nature devastating the palace because it's ruled by a drama queen."

"I guess we should start planning for the arrival of Dayspring."

"What makes you seem so sure he'll accept your proposal?"

"Because as far he's concerned, he only knows that Elden is full of farmers that have magical abilities- and it is guaranteed that he needs our magic to even attempt to match Nur's mages. However, this will prove that's not the only crutch we have anymore- even if it mean's Ayden's demise."


	4. Arrival

Chapter 4

Members of Elden hustled everywhere, commoner and nobleman alike, inside the Palace. One thing Ororo was sure to establish when she took the throne was open class on important affairs- she needed word from all the people to know how they felt.

The Grand Hall that had been impressive to begin with, now, stood breathtaking. The mahogany vines had transformed into living tendrils and snaked their way into the pools of water that contained fish glowing with energy. Fire's burned brightly in torches around the room and in the rafters, creating a wild, ethereal glow, shadows dancing everywhere.

Musicians were already playing the ancient songs that elves of the court danced to thousands of years earlier. Songs that seemed to cast spells on the feet of anyone listening, urging them to dance.

"Hold still! I swear, you are no better than the child you were 30 years ago!" Jean put the finishing touch on Ororo's hair, it was finally all pinned up in silver hair pins decorated with intricate emerald butterflies. Ororo stared longingly in the mirror at her favorite clips- they were a gift from a love in her past before they parted ways. He never told her why he had left- though she had suspected the previous night's encounter had been closer than he enjoyed- and he left with nothing more than a ghost of a wind, and left these by her sleeping head. His red eyes still haunted her dreams. She knew he was avoiding her all these years- especially as he knew very well who she was and where she was. And he was too cunning to be dead, even with his enemies. She sighed deeply and put her memories to rest, trying to focus on the present.

"You're thinking of him again." Jean looked at her with a frown.

"I can't help it. Especially in time of war. I may need to contact him for his help once more. I just don't know if I can face him again…"

"Years have passed, my lady. You have grown. He is a vampire- did it really surprise you to discover his nomadic ways couldn't be stopped?"

"_He should have taken me…"_ she thought sullenly. "Do you think it was nothing more than childish romance? He is 700 years my elder…"

"Is that all?" Jean laughed. "No one can tell what the heart desires- and for how long it will. When it comes to having an eternal life, sometimes you cannot tell if it will last for a brief moment or several lifetimes. But if it the Great Faerie wills it, it shall be. Now don't fret, the guests are arriving soon and the last thing we need is a sullen Queen."

"Do you think the kingdom resents my being so young to this world? Do they trust my wisdom with this coming war?"

"I haven't heard anything to confirm that. Most people revere you with admiration and respect most elders cannot achieve. Not just from your being of royal blood, but you have truly transformed this land. Any doubts when you first started the military training have been laid to rest, now that they know it will be necessary in the coming future."

"You have always been the best at laying my fears to rest. I have too fragile an ego sometimes."

"You are the Queen. It is not an easy task, especially with no co-ruler. If it was easy, everyone would do it."

"I'm wondering if there ever will be a co-ruler."

"There does seem to be a shortage of handsome immortals with ties to elfin royalty. Or even handsome royalty from other lands at that."

The creak of the main gate to the palace interrupted their conversation. Jean placed a hand to her temple and scanned the outside thoughts of the elves below. "He's here with eight escorts. Thoughts of awe coming from the company, and our people alike."

"What about him?" Ororo headed, half dressed in her slip, for her balcony, concealing herself behind a sheer curtain panel while peeking out to get a better look.

"I'm trying but he actually guards his thoughts. I don't know how… but he's not projecting anything. I couldn't scan him without his knowledge this way- and invading privacy is such a viciously dirty business."

"That's quite alright…. My goddess!" she breathed

"What!" Jean ran for the balcony to see what had shocked Ororo.

"Have you ever seen someone so… huge?"

As far as she could see from her second story balcony, without revealing herself, was a tall, muscular man with short, silver hair. He was in full battle dress and he kept his eyes set ahead, a grim expression on his face. His jet black horse trotted gallantly, its regal head arched in full attention, the muscles in its legs rippling with every movement. Beside him rode the blonde messenger, who now appeared infinitesimally small next to the man she assumed was Dayspring. Scattered behind them were seven men on brown horses like the messengers.

Jean stared out the window to see the King dismounting from the large black horse. "You aren't kidding. And there aren't many men who can dwarf you. Enough with curiosity- you'll meet him soon enough. Let's get you dressed." Heading towards the closet, Jean pulled out a green and gold ball gown. "This will be perfect for your hair pins." The queen was paying little attention to her friend now, her eyes fixed on the King.

"Ororo…" She tapped the queen's shoulder.

"Hm?" She turned around and jumped, nearly knocking Jean over. "Sorry."

Jean leaned over the balcony. "Got to give him credit for not waiting until the last minute."

"I've been given the impression that Dayspring is not given to hesitance." Ororo stepped away from the balcony and into her room.

Jean's eyebrows rose. "A man of action, huh?"

"What's that look for?"

Her green eyes darted around the room. "Oh, I don't know…"

"Jean…"

"All I'm saying is that you've obviously shown a budding interest in the man. You're a queen, he's a king… it's not completely out of the question…"

"I'm about to jeopardize the fate of my people for this man. I should know who I'm dealing with- not to mention that I've seen the man for less than eight seconds and don't even know what kind of personality he has." Ororo walked inside, trying to calm her edgy nerves.

Jean looked over the balcony rail again. "Eight? Try three minutes. You don't know how long you've been hidden behind that curtain, do you? He is rather handsome… but too young for my tastes."

"And what of you? What are you wearing tonight?" Ororo was obviously trying to change the subject.

A red fire washed over Jean's maiden dress she was wearing and it transformed into a fiery red and gold gown. "Now, no more worries about me. Tonight is a historical moment- concentrate on the task at hand."


	5. Evening

Chapter 5

The king was escorted to his own chamber in the east wing of Elden palace, along with his accompanying riders. They had been traveling nearly eight days but showed no signs of weariness- only increasing impatience. He had less than three months to gather up enough military force and supplies to back them up before En Sabah Nur reached the border of Ayden, and that was something he would not allow. Rather, he needed to press forward and meet the man halfway.

Now, he was asking a Queen for help on this war. A woman. He couldn't help but wonder what a woman could understand of a man's war. Women, especially those of royal blood, were raised to socialize and know the latest dress fabric trend. Not strategize or even partake in the act of bloodshed.

All these things on his mind, he was dealing with a more personal matter. Ever since reaching Elden, a strange tingling had affected his head. He was beginning to hear what he believed to be voices- not so much from his own head, but _thoughts_ from people around him. It wasn't exactly a new experience to him. It had happened before when he was younger, playing in the attic of Ayden palace and had discovered a trunk of his deceased mother's. Going through her old things, he came upon an amulet with a strange crest he did not recognize. Upon placing it around his neck, it vibrated and voices had flooded into his head, frightening him. He returned later that week and began to master the power the amulet gave him over the next few years until his father had discovered him one day and shattered it right before Nathan's very eyes, saying, "No son of mine will dabble in the magics of such a filthy race!"

He stared at the portrait of the Queen of Elden above the mantle of his quarters, wondering how his father could've held such contempt for an amazing culture. There was no question Ororo was beautiful, the only dark elf born to Elden in recorded history. The portrait displayed the profile of the queen half nude, her flowing white hair half pinned up with most of it cascading down her back, stopping shortly before a sheet wrapped around her waist. It created an enchanting contrast to her honey complexion, set off by feline blue eyes. Her arm closest to the artist was extended, hiding her breast in shadows and a small rain shower cascaded over her open palm. Small silver cuffs decorated her ears and her smile was a confidant one. He hoped she was as wise as she was beautiful.

A knock at the door. "Sire," it was a young woman's voice.

"Yes, come in." His gaze left the portrait above the fireplace and fell upon a young girl that appeared to be about seventeen- which appearances meant nothing here. Her sharp elf ears were covered by her long brown hair and… _Is she sticking out of the door itself?_

She seemed impervious to his studying face and continued, "I've been sent to escort you and your men to the Grand Hall for dinner."

"Thank you, we'll be right down." The girl disappeared through the wall and he shook his head. This was definitely going to be an unusual stay.

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All of the men of Ayden made no attempt to hide their admiration of the Elden palace, and the grand hall was no exception.

The young girl led them down a set of marble stairs to the table. A manservant stood by each chair, ready to fetch whatever delicacy the travel-worn men desired. She seated Nathan specifically on the right side of the head of the table. Everywhere around them, Elves danced to the enchanting music. Suddenly, the music came to a halt and every dancer fell on their knees, bowing to a figure at the top of the stairs from the west wing.

Nathan and his men rose from the table and bowed to acknowledge the queen. The woman floated down the marble stairs, her green and gold robes swayed in an unfelt breeze, her eyes locked on King Dayspring. Once reaching the bottom, she smiled and nodded to the orchestra. Immediately, the chords began again and people rose, finding the rhythm of the song once more.

Forgetting her "grace" as queen, she sped walked to the table and extended a hand to the King, astonished at how much bigger he was in person- nearly two heads taller than she.

"Still in your armor, my lord? I do not see a war nearby." She extended her slender hand which he took in his large one and kissed it, holding her blue eyed gaze as he did.

"Still? I don't recall having seen you before this moment…"

She smiled. "this palace is not absent of windows- and with guests expected, it is not unusual to look outside when they're presence is evident."

They both were seated and food was brought out. He raised an eyebrow, "Aren't the other guests to eat?"

"They've been served. This is exclusively for your men- travel is not the most invigorating experience in Elden wood." She raised a silver goblet to her lips and took a sip of sparkling wine. "Now, to get to business." She set her cup on the table. "I'm not one to mix business with formality so I'll get to the point. As I told your messenger, Elden has evolved tremendously since Achmed passed away. By the way, how did you like the gifts I sent?"

"Wonderful- they look nice on my mantle." He said gruffly. She acted no different than any queen he had encountered. As a matter of fact, she seemed almost more childish.

She couldn't help but smile at his straightforwardness- he was not going to let her beat around the bush on this. "At least they're serving _some_ purpose. I pray you don't have children to knock them off."

"No, I'd have no time for children. Anyway, about this war…" He was pressing for her to continue and it was bothering him that the strange tingling that had affected his head since approaching Elden had grown more fervent. Voices had begun to enter his head more forcefully. He forced himself to try and remember what he did all those years ago to keep them out and they began to fade.

"Continuing, Elden is no longer a home to just magic wielding elves. Since Achmed's death, they have been trained to be formidable warrior's with or without a sword and mastery in Archery. Every Eldinian begins training at 3 years old- with only a staff of course. They graduate to a various arsenal of weapons as they progress and finally choose a weapon to master in. Over all, they make better allies than you ever imagined." Her eyes sparkled with life at the thought of all the people she had taught fight over the years.

Nathan appeared skeptical. "Your majesty, who did you find qualified enough to train an entire kingdom?"

"I guess you'll see tomorrow at the sparring event. I'd divulge more, but for now," she grinned and rose from her seat, "I want to dance!" She immediately threw herself in the throng of people, moving her body lithely and having no trouble finding a partner- at least four approached her and she danced with each of them, every song fast paced and urgent. Gradually Nathan's men took notice of the dancers around them, looking upon the merry elves with a longing to join them.

A beautiful, pink haired girl in a sky blue dress approached Samuel a bit shyly and took his hand. "I'm Sarah, my Lord. Would you care to dance?" He couldn't resist and joined her in the crowd.

Nathan decided to reach out and see if he couldn't still pick up a stray thought or two. Most were on the queen and filled with admiration of her spirit, some were of jealousy of her Highness, the girl dancing with Sam was full of adoration for the blond boy.

Ororo spun out of the hands of yet anther dance partner and landed in Nathan's lap. The silver cuffs in her ears sparkled in the light and her eyes twinkled. "My lord, why the stern face? You are surrounded by friends! The night is young, the stars alive, the moon enchanting," she gestured up to the heavens through the glass and vine canopy, "and it appears I am without a dance partner." She pressed against him, his armor cool against her blazing skin. Without a second thought, he rose and she slid off him like a cat and dipped backwards in his arms.

"Are you sure you have the energy?" he challenged.

"Anything for a king."

With that, they began a fast paced waltz weaving in and out of the other members of the court. She spun out and back in again to be embraced in his arms.

"I never knew you were an Elf." She whispered.

"I'm not."

"You know the dance's as well as half of them." She dipped back again and raised sharply, her face stopping just inches from his.

"My mother lived among your people awhile back."

"So you are part Elf then?"

"That's the mystery." He swung her around, her feet leaving the ground.

"I'm interested, divulge." Her platinum hair waved wildly behind her head.

"Her name was Madelyne Dayspring- she never revealed if she was of elf descent. I think she never mentioned it because my father was human- and very set in his ways against other races. He was always exceptionally bitter about the loss of the war to Elden- even though it was ancient."

"I'm sorry."

The song ended and everyone applauded the King and Queen, who bowed and returned to their table. He heard murmurs of amazement and approval in waves, some even mentioning the possibility of a suitor to the queen, but no one's lips moved to match the voices. He shook his head to clear it and they went away.

"I'm glad your men are enjoying themselves."

He averted his attention once more to the Queen. "I am as well- they've needed this."

"Pardon me, my lord, but it's getting late and I must retire for the night." She rose and extended her hand to him which he kissed and she curtseyed. "I've had much fun tonight with you, King Dayspring- your mother's maiden name," she mused.

"My father and I had our. . . _differences_. Good evening, my lady. I have enjoyed your company as well."

"Very well, I shall see you in the morrow- breakfast is little after sunrise, spar at high noon."

"I'll be there."

"I would hope so, it is very promising."


	6. Guilty Pleasures

Chapter 6

She felt like crying- allowing all the joy, love, and laughter emerging from her and reveal itself by rolling down her brown cheeks in the large drops of water. First the pain rises in her throat and an unfamiliar sting clouds her eyes and she weeps. Her sobs shake her whole body and he holds her closer, rocking her gently. She cries for her father, for Elden, and most of all, for him. She silences the inner voice that scolds her for being so weak and childish. And her heart begins to heal. Sniffling, she grinned at him and threw her arms around his muscular shoulders, "You have no idea what this means to me, Remy."

He stroked her soft hair, and consoled her. "I c'n try to imagine, chere." He was beginning to choke up but not for the same reason as she. He often wondered why he tortured himself this way. He always knew when she was near- her scent would flood his Vampiric senses, the blood would tease him, her heart pounding like a drum in his ears. But it wasn't her fault, by no means was it for her to remedy. He never told her about his desires to kiss her rosebud lips, to quicken the pace of her heart, forcing it to betray the location of the channel of her life in her neck. Nibbling at first, he often fantasized of making her like him- it would hurt at first- for her, but it would fade. He would be gentle with her, unlike many he had preyed upon before. All he wanted was just a small taste… he could control himself, couldn't he? He watched as almost mechanically his hand reached out, firmly grasping her white hair in his leather gloved fist, and gently pulled her head backwards. Her eyes were wide, "Just like a deer before you shoot it- and it know it comin'" he mused.

Trembling she whispered, "Remy… what are you doing?"

"Don' worry, Stormy… it's not gon' hurt too bad." Not waiting to hear anymore protests, he feasted on her life force… stealing her very soul away. Her struggles were half hearted and until they finally ceased, he pulled away in terror of the realization of what he had done. He'd taken too much! He placed two fingers at the corner of his mouth, horrified that they came away bloody… _her blood…_

"No…. NO!" he pulled is glove off with his teeth and took a knife to his wrist, desperately letting it trickle in to her open mouth, allowing it to go down her throat. She never awakened. He picked up her body and cradled it in his arms. "I'm sorry, Stormy… I didn't mean to… I'm so sorry…" Tears of blood rolled down his pale cheeks and landed on her face, leaving crimson trails where they landed. A noise behind him… a pain in his heart. He looked down to a piece of wood sticking out of his chest, covered in Ororo's newly drained blood. He turned to see a regal figure at the end of a bow staff right before he crumbled into nothing.

Remy jerked awake, covered in blood-sweat. He could still smell her powerful, musky scent in his room. His chest heaved up and down in mock panic- even though they did not grab any oxygen from the air. He was told old habits died hard when he lost his humanity, but it had been over 700 years and his lungs still pretended to work. He rubbed his eyes and stared at the ceiling, not even at one particular thing, just zoning out, pondering his dream. The dream had haunted him ever since he and Ororo met 23 years ago, when they had a few adventurous romps in the wars. He remembers the scene vividly in and out of dream, it was after she had lost most the men in her war party- at only twenty-four she was carrying the war load that most kings would never dirty they're hands with. A princess among the most beautiful race of people, the most innocent, running with the devil. Only The Bite was in his dreams, a dark desire he had allowed to fester in his heart. The disturbing part of this particular facet of the dream was the first time he saw the person on the other end of the stake. He knows she is coming. His beautiful Stormy is finally returning to her dark prince. And she is very well bringing his death with her.

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Author note: Without intention, this chapter matches the song "building a mystery" by Sarah McLachlan (I found out while proofreading and having the music going- got goose bumps-lol)

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	7. Approval

Chapter 7

Noon finally arrived and Ororo found herself at the beginning of a corridor leading from the palace gardens to the Elden amphitheatre. She breathed in deeply, trying to calm herself. She knew victory was most likely hers- she had been complimented on her swordsmanship since she picked up a blade. However, fear plagued her mind as she considered how foolish she was to place her city's fate on a spar. How did she get carried away sometimes? "_Because you are still a mere child playing make believe as a queen."_ She shook the thought from her head and pulled a stray lock of hair behind one of her pointed ears, wondering how it got missed from the hair tie that kept her hair in a ponytail.

The shrill voice of Siryn traveled to her ears as the girl shouted the crowd to calm, and let the affair begin. "Today is a most unusual match, as requested and arranged by the Queen. It is a task Ayden has agreed to undertake, to show what skill they can offer us in an alliance against the coming war. The queen wishes for it to be public, so that all Eldinians could approve or disapprove of the final outcome. Let's show our support of both sparring partners, as this should prove a difficult match to win for either city." The crowd cheered. Ororo stood behind her gate, still doing breathing exercises to calm her excitement. She was anxious to get out and show Dayspring what she had molded Elden into. She was not going to go easy on his 'champion' either.

"Let's bring out the best there is to offer! I present to you," Ororo struggled to hear what Siryn was saying but it was drowned out by the crowd's wild cheers, "and the very Queen of Elden!" The gate opened and the sun fell on her face, and reflected off of her polished armor. Her people cheered loud for her and she smiled graciously, strolling onto the dirt floor. Her eyes made contact with that of her foe and she hid her surprise.

"Good afternoon, my lord." She nodded her head in hello to the king, and he bowed to her.

"Fancy seeing you here, my lady." Neither of them hid the sarcasm behind their 'reverence' for each other.

Siryn calmed the crowd once more and continued. "Withdraw weapons." Ororo withdrew her sword and Dayspring his own. "A shield has been provided to prevent any outside interference or magic by anyone from the crowd. No magic permitted by the participants or it is an automatic forfeit of the match."

"A pity. I've heard much of your abilities, Ororo. I was hoping for a show."

"You haven't seen anything yet." She countered.

"Otherwise, anything goes! Touch swords… and… BEGIN!"

The crowd roared as steel struck steel, swords clashing and occasionally hitting armor. Nathan's blows occasionally knocked Ororo back from the incredible force of strength behind them when she caught them wrong, but she was quickly sliding into a rhythm with it. She learned his body language, and was soon able to avoid his sharp blows all together. She found a weakness in his form and exploited it immediately, making a small cut on his face.

He looked shocked, "Are you sure you want to continue, sire?"

Regaining his composure, he actually grinned at her wolfishly. "Absolutely."

This was the kind of match Nathan could have only hoped for. As long as it wasn't mortal, the wound didn't matter. Ororo dodged one of his blows but didn't realize it was a feint and ended up getting smacked with the flat of his sword on her rear end, leaving a painful sting. Laughter erupted from the crowd and whistles traveled down.

Her face reddened and she angered, more at herself for her vulnerability. "That shall not happen again!"

Nathan beckoned her to him, taunting her. She swallowed her anger, forcing herself to focus and kept him on the defense, striking blow after blow, not allowing him to get one chance to strike back. Her hair fell in her eyes and she blew it away with a quick breath. It was then that Nathan took the advantage, or so he thought and she sidestepped him and knocked him in the back with her sword handle so that he fell to the ground. The crowd sat tensely. "It appears I have the victory." She stood over him, feet at his head, sword drawn to the back of his head. "What do you say to that?"

"I say you owe me an alliance,"

"WHa-!" His hand snaked out fast as lightning and grabbed her ankle, knocking her to the ground- her sword clattered several feet away and he practically sat on her, straddling her stomach, sword pressed to her throat. Her eyes were wide as saucers. He panted heavily, his face streaked with dirt. "You need to admit defeat before it's declared over. And it's not your form that's flawed, it's your attitude."

She boiled with anger. How dare he criticize her! She squirmed to discover if escape was possible but he held her fast, a look of amusement on his face. "Victory is Ayden's." she murmured.

"Ladies and Gentlemen! King Dayspring emerges victorious!" The crowd cheered, even if their queen had lost, it was a great fight nonetheless. No one had lasted longer than 5 minutes against her, yet for her to be felled in less than ten was impressive.

He rose off of her and offered her a hand up, which she took reluctantly and was actually launched an extra foot off the ground when he pulled her up. "Don't beat yourself up over the loss, Ororo. It was a game too you, but life or death for me and mine."

She dusted herself off, at a loss of words- at least to him. She turned to address her people who had finally quieted down. "Elden, you have seen Ayden perform before you very eyes, and they have proven to me their worthiness. With your approval, I would like to form an alliance with their king, to stop En Sabah Nur from not only devastating the Outworld, but turning on Elden as well. Any doubts must be cast forward now." The crowd murmured among itself for a few minutes, obviously very used to providing input in the Queen's decisions. Ororo scanned them, as if trying to read or influence their thoughts, doubting they would agree.

"Hardly a complete monarchy," thought Nathan. Finally, a hush fell over the crowd.

One blonde elf stood up, a man with wings like an angels. "My liege, a waging war is a hefty decision with dire consequences. We are already powerful. What of this will benefit Elden?"

Ororo smiled, "Elden is powerful, yes, in magic and skill. However, the only thing protecting us from the impending war is the forest. Through offering our skills to Ayden, we are gaining not just one powerful ally, but their ally's as well. This will allow for future trade and progress. Most importantly, although tragic and difficult, the outcome will guarantee a future safe from tyranny- a benefit that is priceless."

"Is Nur really so powerful as to conquer all of the Outlands?" cried out a voice from the crowd.

The queen's eyes fell, "Yes. It has been brought to my attention, not only by Ayden but my own sources that En Sabah Nur has been amassing an army for the past decade. An army comprised of trolls, demons, mages, dragons…"

The mention of dragons immediately caused whispers and murmurs to spread through the crowd. "Dragons? My lady, there is no magic that can fell a dragon." Siryn interjected.

"It has been brought to my attention that magic cannot fell a dragon? Rubbish. Dragons, like all creatures, are subject to the mortalities of any life and the sands of time. Once, a great dragon guarded this very city yet the only remembrance of him is the memorial statue in the royal gardens. I find it hard to believe nothing can fell a dragon if so noble a creature as that succumbed to fate."

Nathan watched her, amazed as over the next twenty minutes she parried each question tossed at her, even if she was sugar coating the answers, she was never at a loss for words.

Suddenly the questions were directed his way. The voice was from the same blonde man from before. "My king, I do not wish to offend but what of your people? Here in Elden, we are still left with the memories of the centuries past war between Elves and Humans. Some of us who survived it stand in your presence now. What say you on our concern there will be no animosity or betrayal from your kingdom and subjects?" Many nods and murmurs again drifted from the crowd.

Nathan had anticipated this question since he sent Samuel with the proposal for alliance weeks ago. "I understand your concern and know the scars that run deep from the travesty. The war was generations ago for humans, but that does not permit me to discount your fears. I hold no anger or grudge against Elden but it was difficult gathering the courage to face your queen with that scar in my heritage.

"Our kingdom's histories should not be forgotten but they should not be allowed as a roadblock to progress. I am not here to ask Elves to sacrifice themselves needlessly, I would pray that any that have misgivings be able to bring them to our attention because a fight without spirit is a fool's endeavor.

"Know this: if I did not care for the fate of your kingdom, I would not have come. I admit, we will be hard pressed to defeat Nur without the skills of Elden, but what king, or man for that matter, would I be to ask you of a situation I would not put myself in? I will be out there on the frontlines, risking myself for Elden as well. My people are willing to do the same for you.

"Times have changed, Ayden has changed, I am not my ancestor's but I will do my damndest to rectify their wrongs against Elden even beyond this war."

Ororo gave Nathan an appraising look, endeared by his words and impressed with his grip on the now silent elves.

"My people, it appears your questions have been anwered. Now, I ask for your approval of an alliance with King Nathan Dayspring and Ayden. And your answer?"

Almost unanimously, the crowd rose and applauded. Few were left in their seats.

"Then it is agreed- the Elden military force should be ready to go within 3 weeks. Until then, I shall leave on a brief journey with King Dayspring to reclaim allies of old and acquire new. Victory is ours- Nur will be stopped." Her people cheered her and Dayspring off of the field.

"You certainly have a way with your subjects."

"They are my people and it is their fate, I choose not to let them remain ignorant, or helpless." The rest of the stroll through the corridor was marked with silence. People bowed to them as they entered the grand hall of the palace, she seemed oblivious. Her thoughts were focused on what Elden's involvement in the war meant. Contact with Remy was unavoidable. Nathan grabbed her arm just as she started to branch off to the west wing.

"Ororo, is there something you have against me? Because if there is, we need to resolve it. We're going to be seeing a lot of each other in the future."

She stared into his eyes and pulled her arm away. "I am going to take a bath. I'll see you in the war room in 3 hours." She turned on her heel and almost fled up the stairs, leaving him puzzled and wondering if it had been tears that made her eyes shimmer like they did.

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A/N: this chapter's update dedicated to eightcrayondon who called me out on lack of content- thanks good buddy! 4-8-06


	8. Evil Speaks

Chapter 8

Elsewhere… The Kingdom of En Sabah Nur

The sun is setting on the barren, rock and sand covered land. Few signs of life dot the landscape- mostly in the form of dying trees. An enormous castle, carved out of black rock, stands as the dark heart of this evil land. Sounds of steel being tempered and fires raging are most prevalent. Trolls patrol the turrets and maintain the gates- not that anyone would venture into this land willingly- it's rare to even feel a ghost of a wind.

A hulking shadowy figure sits on his throne, contemplating his every move of this war. Weighing every outcome, every resource, every strength and weakness. He is a large, muscular man- muscles formed from years of training, and his expression dark. His long black hair falls in thick strands, shielding most of his pale face from the world, except his eyes, burning red like dying coals. With a deep gravelly voice he addressed his commanding officer. "Essex, what news from the western lands?"

The pale faced man with the red eyes bowed, "Sire, since Mera's fall, you have created a giant tidal wave, as it were- alliances have been springing up. It should make it easier to conqueror with them all assembling in one place."

"And my enemy? Ayden?" He leaned forward, hands pressed together, his finger tips touching his pursed lips.

"It appears that Dayspring has sought an alliance with Elden."

"Of course, as I predicted- Elden is the only source of power that can rival the magics of mine, but magic is all they have. Foolish little Queen. Her test shall come in future days, and I shall see what my fiancée is made of."

Nur's thoughts focused on memories of the past, a memory when he almost had Achmed fooled into giving him Ororo. She, being the only heir to the throne, guaranteed his control of not only the Dark and Light Kingdoms of Power, but it was prophesied that their union would spawn the ultimate warrior and conqueror. Instead, the fifteen year old had run off to fight in the wars and had become untraceable for over a decade. Almost.

He had employed a vampire to keep watch over her, keep her alive for the coming times. And he would not forget the name of that vile creature, for that wretch had betrayed him. The demon inside the vampire had actually been tamed by her, and his humanity had fallen for her- but the demon had other intentions- coming too close to taking her on several occasions. Unfortunately, Remy had dropped off the face of the earth, but betrayals did not go over well with the dark Lord. And he always made sure it did not go over well for the betrayer.

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They met before a waterfall in the Grand Hall. The water cascaded from a ledge near the ceiling and sprayed a gentle mist everywhere yet surprisingly, there was no sound of it making contact with the stream below. The only noise was of flowing water.

Ororo spoke, "I apologize for my attitude earlier, my lord. It will not happen again. I've had too much flowing through my mind this day alone, and I fear I have taken it out on you." She didn't even glance away in shame as she apologized. She didn't wait for his acceptance either. "Follow me please." With a wave of her hand, the waterfall bent sideways- but did not break- it's flow was simply altered, and she stepped behind it into the revealed passage way. He followed her without question for the first, and definitely not the last, time- impressed that it was lightning clenched in her fist that was suddenly illuminating the passage way.

Their footsteps echoed in the dark corridor as she spoke, "This room has not been used in a millennia. That is how long it has been since Elden toiled in the affairs of the Outworld. My father's entire rein, 568 years, this room remained secluded. He didn't even know I knew about it. It was my refuge." She smiled slightly at the thought of Jean trying to find her for her manners lessons, and her being holed up in here with nothing but a candle and her magic to keep her company.

She lit several candles on an oak table to reveal a map of all the kingdoms before them. She pointed at a small fortress that had been circled in red with an x in the middle. Several other small villages had been marked in a similar manner.

"These are places Nur has already destroyed," she gestured towards the red X's. "Mera is of great concern considering not only it's size, but the king is being held prisoner. Mera had no weak force either, though their King was a peace-loving ruler who never partook in war. I am wondering if there is a purpose behind his kidnapping or if he is being made an example- that not even people who have never opposed or dealt with Nur are going to be overtaken. No one is immune."

His brow furrowed. "It could be any reason. Xavier is a renowned scholar- I was educated by him. No one knew more about this world. Every single race, it's strengths, weaknesses, history, every means of communication available. . . That's why Nur needs him. Information. We need to get Xavier- or pray he doesn't talk."

"There is one other link we need to obtain to make him fall."

"The M'Kraan crystal?"

"Precisely. I did not know many were aware of it…"

"I only know because Xavier taught me. It's the only reason Nur has his immortality- and his magical abilities."

"What resources do you have at your disposal?"

"Truth be told, Ayden has been preparing for this war for years since trouble first started brewing. We have troops that are 20,000 strong, from my kingdom alone. I've already recruited the help of my father's brother, and several others. Weapons, archers, and food have been arranged for a several years war. What do you have up your sleeve?"

"I have made many contacts through my war experience and as Queen."

"Any chance you'll divulge their names?" It briefly touched his mind that she mentioned experience in a previous war but he decided it was for a conversation at a later date.

"I hold close ties to the Nymph kingdom of Nymon. Not many are aware that they are excellent weapons craftsmen and women. They craft magical blades that wield massive damage. Fairy's can bless the soldiers and their armor, strengthening it greatly. And my personal favorite, vampires," She smiled brightly.

He eyed her suspiciously, "Vampires?"

"Not all are evil, my lord. As a matter of fact, there's a guild of vampire's that I have in mind. They're thieves but not without other skills."

"But they're only useful at night."

"I'm shocked at how primitive your human folklore remains! What do you think we live in, the dark ages? There are amulets and spells to counteract the sunlight's effects on them"

"But can they be trusted?"

"I'd trust the leader with nothing less than my life. We fought alongside each other to free Geddes- a true gentleman" Her thoughts turned sour at the thought, she knew she could trust Remy, but… she didn't want to. She didn't want to be let down.

"It's your call but we can't risk them cannibalizing our troops."

"Very well then, we leave immediately and if all goes well, should be back here within 3 weeks."

"3 weeks!"

"Nothing to fear, my lord. Every resource I can contact is located here within Elden wood. And unlike men, I have grown up here and know the path's quite well. If anything, we should have an extra week for relaxation."

"Barring no one asks us for a spar." He dead panned.

She hid a smile, her controlled combat personality waning. "Be ready to depart first thing in the morning. I would make haste this evening, however, I must prepare the kingdom for my absence. I trust that is alright with you?"

"Yes. But I do have something important I need to discuss with you. You may at least know what's going on." His shoulders relaxed and he breathed in deeply. "You most likely remember when I told about my mother, how she hailed from Elden."

"Yes, I do." She sat down in a nearby chair and leaned against the table. "You look weary, why don't you sit down?" It was amazing how she transitioned from warrior queen to almost motherly.

He complied, sitting next to her, and continued, "My mother died when I was eight. When I was 14, I discovered a trinket, I don't know- it could've been an amulet. But when I touched it, it seemed to give me some sort of power. I could read thoughts of people, and influence them sometimes. I even was able to move things with my mind."

"Hmm. . ." her eyes were lighting up in the candle light.

"I of course toyed with the amulet, practicing with it, but when my father found it in my possession a few years later, he destroyed it. But the point is, ever since entering Elden, I've been hearing the thoughts of people in my head again, and I'm able to keep them out somewhat, and focus on certain ones, but. . . What the hell is going on?"

Ororo held a gentle smile on her face as she reached over and squeezed his hand. "I think it is safe to say that your mother was an Elf, Nathan. What you have described, the amulet in particular giving you power, and the same power returning to you when you arrived, all indicate your elf heritage. You see, as newborns, elves are set before a sacred pool where the Great Faerie emerges to bless us with our magic. Upon being blessed, each child is given a talisman of some sort so that if we must ever leave Elden, our power will stay with us. Believe it or not, it is our blood tie to Elden that gives us our power- the very earth itself below us is what has provided our gifts. You have always had the potential, it just needed to be tapped and awakened."

Nathan was taken aback. "You have no idea how difficult that is to believe- especially considering my father would've married the one person he hated most."

"Perhaps she hadn't told him- though it seems that he did find out eventually. When we leave Elden and we do not possess our talisman on our person- like you said it was locked away- we begin to become human. Even the points of our ears disappear. One thing I do find fascinating, though, is that if you were to possess my amulet, it would do nothing to you. You wouldn't even have your magic awakened. It makes me wonder if that amulet was not hers, but yours."

"So what do I do? I mean, once I leave here, it's back to being human."

"Well, a temporary alternative is to take a small bit of earth from Elden with you. It fades after a few months, but it would give you enough time to employ your new magic. My lady in waiting and best friend has powers similar to yours- though she has over 500 years experience with hers. I believe she would be of great help to you."

"All my thanks, my lady."

"It was my pleasure. As a matter of fact, I have something to confide in you so that you may not get too frustrated with me in the future. As an immortal elf, maturity sometimes is a bit slow in coming. I realize that I can get a bit carried away, however, I never seem to realize it until afterwards. But I assure you, no matter how irrational I may seem to you, it has a purpose. That having been said, I'll introduce you and Jean tomorrow. Good night, King Dayspring."

"And to you, my lady."

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My lady, I don't feel it is in your best interest to go to war again." Katya handed Ororo her sword, Demon Slayer. Ororo removed it from the scabbard, examining its mirrored surface and sharp edges for defect.

"Katya, you know as well as I that I cannot- and will not send my people to spill blood alone. It is my duty and in my spirit." Satisfied it was perfect, she sheathed it and placed it next to her armor on the chase lounge by her window.

"It has been 12 years…"

"I do not care if it has been a thousand- war is something you can never forget- instinct is raw and unbridled. Thought and action simultaneously executed. Though you're in a most primitive state, it's the most heightened your senses will ever be. I love being queen of Elden, believe me- but my spirit is alive in the thick of battle."

"But if Elden should lose you…" A tear sprung to the girl's eye.

Ororo placed a hand on both sides of Katya's face and touched her forehead to the girl's.

"Elden shall not lose me and Tania willing, I shall not lose Elden."


	9. Catfight

Chapter 9

Almost everyone from Elden had arrived to see off the King, Queen, and their company. Cheers filled the streets and children playfully called their names, to get them to wave at them. A small girl, no more than eight, ran up to Ororo's white horse and placed a red rose in it's mane she then handed a matching one to the queen. "I picked this just for you, my lady!"

Her trademark smile appeared and she thanked the child lavishly, placing the flower in her hair.

The sun was high as evening had not yet set in, the warmth spreading to her swelling heart. It filled with an incomparable pride at how mentally aware and prepared for this battle her elves were. Ororo was accompanied by her long time friend, Jean. She had never seen Jean dressed for battle before, and she had never seen her fight physically, even from training, but she knew that Jean's magic alone required no assistance there- she controlled physical reality itself, it seemed. It was then Ororo remembered she had forgotten to introduce Jean and Nathan formally. She brushed the thought aside for later when they made camp but was painfully aware of Nathan stealing frequent glances at her friend.

The forest loomed ahead of them, Elden behind them and Ororo stopped the company. "Before we enter the forest, I realize you are not familiar with the forces or creatures within. The best advice I can give you is to stay on the path, and don't separate." Her horse was a bit agitated, stomping at the ground to get going. "And no matter what you see, do not go after it. There are things in here that are of the Light, but also those whose intentions are more sinister. Any other information you will receive is on a need to know basis. We'll travel through until nightfall- there shall be no fire- the smell will attract unwanted guests. Understood?"

Suddenly King Dayspring and his men didn't take Elden Wood so lightly. They all nodded in agreement and steered their horses to follow her into the wood. Nathan wondered why she warned them not to stray off of the path. By the look of things, the forest was so dense, it was like having an iron wall on either side of you. The sun filtered down through the leafy canopy along with the shrill songs of birds and the chattering of critters unseen.

They traveled in almost complete silence for an hour, the wood had finally opened up around them and they were able to see exotic flowers and the insects hovering around them. They had yet to see any other signs of life.

Ororo, why are you so forlorn? Is it because of **him**? Jean broke the silence, at least in Ororo's mind.

The dark elf's eyes closed at the thought, just when she had believed she'd come to terms with it. Yes. I fear how I may react upon seeing him. I wonder if I will react in love, or hate. I need this part to be over. To finally lay my mind at peace.

You will have your closure.

A rustle in the bushes a few yards ahead snapped Ororo from her conversation and she slowed her gait, motioning for the others to comply.

"What is it?" Dayspring asked.

"I'm not sure, proceed with caution." As she approached the bush, it stopped shaking and two red eyes peered out at her. The creature lunged at her, startling her horse, it bounded off of Nathan's shoulder, and landed on the back of Samuel's horse, behind his saddle. It was a tiny, golden monkey, slightly bigger than his hand. He was fascinated at first as it cooed, looking up at him. He reached to touch it and the creature immediately turned hostile, hissing and screaming. He pulled away and it grinned, showing razor sharp teeth. He went to swat it away but it was too late, the wretch bit down hard on the horse's flank. The wounded creature shrieked and reared upward, trying to toss it's rider and assailant, but to no avail. It took off blindly into the forest.

"DAMN THAT CREATURE!" Ororo thundered. She was fighting her horse which was snorting and leaping about, desperately ready to charge forward but she held it back with a firm grip on the reins, shouting "Jean, remain here to protect the others! Nathan! Follow me if you wish to recover him!" With that she clicked her tongue, yelled, "Hi-yah!" and the horse broke loose, carrying her at break neck speed _Bright lady protect him…_

She concentrated and called upon a wind to come before the horse 30 yards ahead of her, making it difficult for it to proceed. She was finally gaining on it… Closer… Closer… she was within 20 feet now. Wrapping the reins around a clasp on the saddle, she released her bow from the side of it and immediately stood up in the stirrups, trying to escape the bouncing and her horse sprung forward with renewed energy, approaching an opening in the forest.

Taking careful aim, she let an arrow fly at the hideous creature behind Samuel. It nicked it's ear and the creature howled and hissed at her, springing towards her unexpectedly, teeth bared. Her thoughts sped up and time slowed as she calmly drew another arrow, pulled back on the bowstring, and let the arrow fly into the belly of the creature. The monkey immediately changed trajectory and as it flew backwards, it transformed, fur disappearing and body elongating as it struck the ground. Ororo slowed her horse and approached it cautiously and discovered the nude form of a Red-haired woman. She was still breathing but blood was soaking up the shaft of the arrow that still lay in her stomach. Sam had finally calmed his horse and doubled back in time to see Ororo spread her cape over whomever it was that had attacked him. "That… was incredible!"

"How is your horse?" Ororo asked, noticing a shift in the air around them. _Where's Dayspring?_

"No skin broken, just bruised. And scared witless. Is that thing dead?"

"I would pray that 'it' isn't, for your sake, elf!" Dozens of women immediately stepped out of the shadows and appeared in the trees, all of them with spears, bows, or knives in their hands. Their faces and arms were covered with symbols of victory, heritage, and destiny. They were the legendary Amazons. Ororo kept her back to them, Sam couldn't keep his eyes away from them, he was rooted to the ground with fear.

"I have no quarrel with you," Ororo said evenly, knowing it was futile. You attacked one Amazon, you attacked them all.

A muscular, dark haired woman, barely Ororo's height, stepped forward. She was dressed in a dark brown leather sleeveless body suit. Her leather boots were of even tread and stopped just above the knee. Scars from past battle and from life in the forest covered her arms and she wore a patch over one eye.. She passed Ororo and gathered up the fallen woman in her arms. "Take her to the healer. Let me deal with the elf." Another Amazon nodded and fled with the injured woman into the woods. The woman who just spoke, obviously the one in charge, walked around to the front of the elf, and Ororo noticed she had an eye patch. The Amazon stared at her, her face just inches away. "You are accused of assaulting an Amazon and will be dealt with accordingly." Fast as lightning, she backhanded Ororo across the face.

The elf paused and closed her eyes for a moment, absorbing the pain, before straightening her head and employing an icy gaze. "Do you know who you're dealing with!"

"I care not who you are, just what you have done." She snarled.

"And did you take into account what your precious Amazon did to us?"

"She is cursed and in our care. A man did this to her. She changes form and acts without thought or reason. That she escaped is our fault, not hers. It will not happen again. However, now that we have your companions, I feel that it is an even trade for what you have done." Nathan and Sam were being held, knives to their throats, and had three other amazons with drawn bows on them.

"I will not let you take them!" Her eyes began to fade to a translucent white

"Are you foolish enough to think you have a choice!"

Ororo thought frantically… she could easily summon her magic… but it was too risky with the bows drawn on the king and his messenger. "You take responsibility for her actions, correct?"

The Amazon nodded, wondering what Ororo was getting at. "Then I challenge you, based on your intent to harm one of my soldiers and his horse. My atrocity, vs. yours, in combat."

She smirked at the gangly elf before her. She had seen many battles and this woman dared challenge a seasoned warrior! "Certain conditions do apply. What is your magic and what guarantee do I have that you will not wield it in the match?"

"I command the sky- wind, rain, snow- mother nature itself. And you have my unconditional promise that if I so much as utter a magic word, you may shoot King Dayspring." She avoided Nathan's gaze, knowing full well his reaction from not just her challenge, but her promise.

The woman approached Dayspring, stroked a hand across his chest and coyly bit her bottom lip. "A King? Perhaps we won't give him up too easily… he is very handsome, and appears strong as well- he would serve well for breeding." A few of the other Amazons smiled at that prospect.

A fire began to ignite in Ororo, a rage she had not felt in a while – not since she was young and Remy had spent the night with a bar maid, before she admitted she had feelings for him, and it had burnt her deeply. Ororo had started a bar fight over it and sent quite a few men away injured over the incident. That was before she tamed her temper somewhat. "I add one more condition, Amazon."

Here one good eye met Ororo's gaze. "What is that?"

"No weapons. Just hand to hand."

Nathan looked at her desperately. He'd already fought Ororo when her anger got the best of her- and that was with a weapon. "Do you know what you're doing!"

"Silence, Dayspring!" Ororo snarled while removing her armor. Where was this anger coming from she wondered. She was always calm, composed, flirtatious, and in control. But right now, she wanted nothing more than to rip the arms off of this woman before her and beat her with them. It wasn't like she loved Dayspring or anything of that nature, but it was the thought that even though she didn't want him, he was hers- and someone else was trying to play with him. "Let's go."

"It appears I've struck a nerve with the dark elf. Shall we?" The woman turned and swung her leg back which nearly made contact with Ororo's stomach if she hadn't flipped back at last moment. Crouched to the ground, she sprung at the woman who side stepped and punched her in the chest. A blinding pain shot through her body but she ignored it. She'd had worse. _She's too offensive… needs to let that woman come after her._ Did she just imagine it or was that Nathan's voice in her head? No time to think about it, a fist was flying at her face, she used her arm to swat it away and pulled back her arm, sending her fury forward into her assailants face. Blood spurted out and down the woman's chin from her nose.

"Nicely done, wench- I would like to return the favor." She began a furious assault with only her legs, finally making contact with Ororo's shoulder and dislocating it. Ororo clenched her teeth in frustration and pain. Her shoulder was weirdly disjointed and bulgy.

"Admit defeat, woman! You are not match for me!" The statement was punctuated with a bare fist aimed for Ororo's jaw.

Ororo ducked the woman's fist and ran past her. She rammed her shoulder full force against a nearby tree. She gasped as it popped into place but not without a sickening noise or a terrible wave of pain shaking her body. Gathering her wits, she approached the Amazon once more. "I'm not through with you yet!"

The bloodied woman looked at her awkwardly, surprised the dark elf wanted to continue the bout. "I would be happy to take care of your other shoulder for you! HIya! " She sprung in the air, her foot nearly coming in contact with Ororo's face. The elf queen grabbed the woman's leg in mid air and swung her into a tree with it. Not giving her an opportunity to recover, she ran up and began striking her with her fists repeatedly until finally locking her legs around the woman's head. "Release my friends or I remove your head!"

The dark haired amazon nodded. "Release them. She has won." Dayspring and Sam were released and a cloth tossed at the bloody amazon. She began dabbing at the blood in her nose and addressed Ororo. "Who are you?"

Ororo was already re-donning her armor. "I am Ororo, Queen of the Elves and Elden."

Here eyes widened. "I am quite impressed. The elves have been fabled as peaceful scholars and farmers- nothing more. No one has ever fought me as ferociously as you, you would have made a great Amazon."

"I accept your praise graciously but I have a question about this man that has cursed your companion. He wouldn't happen to hail from Hades would he?"

"How did you know?"

"Myself and my consort, Dayspring, have allied to brace for the coming war provoked by Nur, King of Hades. I'm concerned he may have dabbled in areas that we haven't even perceived yet." She offered a hand to help the Amazon up. She waved it aside and rose on her own.

"She disappeared one night while on a hunt. She reappeared with the crest Hades carved into her right arm and she was changed. Her skin was blue, and she transformed into various creatures and people- her thoughts and personalities changing with the physical. It angers me to acknowledge it, but we are without the resources and capabilities of fighting an entire kingdom."

"I extend our aide should he attack another of your tribe."

"Thank you. But whoever is foolish enough to attack one of mine again is in store for horrors never imagined on this earth."

"Ororo, we need to regroup." Nathan interrupted.

"We're already here." Jean emerged from the wood with the rest of Dayspring's men and several Amazons paralyzed in mid air. "We were ambushed no less than 5 minutes after you had given chase of Sam. They obviously didn't know who they were dealing with."

"Jean, I admire your skills but please release them. We have come to terms and are at peace"

"Very well." With a wave of her hand, the women were restored and joined their fellow amazons, obviously very annoyed.

The leader of the amazons extended her hand. "Thank you, Ororo. I wish you luck on your journey. Though you are not an Amazon by name, you are by honor. I consider you my sister."

Ororo took her hand and shook it. "As will I…?" She tried to hide her embarrassment at the loss of the woman's name.

The woman laughed. "Callisto."

"Callisto." She mulled over the name, memorizing it. "I'm sure you know this forest like the back of your hand, so I have an important question. Have you seen a vampire lurking about, at any time? He goes but the name of Remy."

Callisto tilted her head back, thinking for several seconds. "I can't say that I know the names of any vampires, but I know there is a guild here in the forest. We caught one of their sniveling bottom feeders attacking our herds. After forcing information from him, we sent him on his way to warn the others not to come near us again. They are located northwest from here. At least, that was the direction he went in. I imagine it would be several days journey as I know nothing of that sort dwelling within a days radius of here."

"Thank you. You have been more help than you could know." Ororo turned to leave but Callisto grabbed her arm.

"Be careful. There are creatures up north that have not even been documented. It is legend that Jishin roam there."

"What is this… Jishin?" Nathan asked.

"It is an ancient, giant beast. It burrows under the ground. No one that has seen it has lived to tell. But it is believed to be large enough to swallow horses. In its mouth and down its throat are innumerable sets of teeth, shredding what eats as it swallows it. It is covered in scales so thick, man made weapons are useless against it. You could be riding your horse, feel a slight tremor, and then it surges out of the ground, swallowing you before you have a chance to know you're going to die."

"If no one has seen it, how do you know it exists?"

"You know more about the unknown than I, elves. If magic is dormant, does that mean it does not exist?" Callisto stared at Nathan, knowingly, as she finished speaking. "All I can say is if you are given any warning at all, head for the nearest solid, non-earth surface you can find."

The allied party shifted nervously in their seats. Some worried, most counting the story as nothing more than a myth.

Ororo mounted her horse, not knowing what to believe of the story. "I appreciate the warning. If what you say is true, we have a long and tiresome journey ahead of us and must be on our way. Are there any other creatures or people on the way?"

Callisto grinned, "You're past the hard part. The Jishin should be nothing after me."

Ororo smiled back and clicked her tongue. "Good bye, Callisto."

- ----

Author's note: Argh. It took forever to get this out of my brain. I'm still not happy with this chapter. I originally intended the Amazon leader to be Psylocke. Ah well. I'll put her in later, I guess.

Update 7-15-05:

The update to this chapter is dedicated to Kendrat199- for finding the MAJOR mistake I made in who a character was (that's what happens when you have no beta reader and you change your mind 10 zillion times) .


	10. Beacon

Chapter 10

Remy walked through the forest, leaves crunching beneath his feet as his memories wandered back to the dreams that have been plaguing him. He could feel Ororo, somewhere in the tangle of trees and brush that covered the territory between Elden and the Outlands. He didn't know where, but he walked where it felt right and the feeling of her being became stronger.

It was puzzling that he hadn't been able to feel her presence for so many years. However, with how much magical upheaval was in the world at present, it made sense. Though it seemed humans were oblivious it, even the non magical animals in the world were restless. Remy himself couldn't sit out and stare at the night sky without catching glimpses of magical build up whipping through the air.

"Nur, what are you up to?" He pushed a branch forward and immediately doubled over in pain. His hunger was getting worse. He lay curled up on the ground for several minutes before he could gather his wits and mentally force the pain away.

"Mon dieu…" he seethed. This was a hunger that no forest creature could satiate. He couldn't catch up to Ororo like this or she was likely to be devoured by his dark side. For her sake, he had to stop at the Cathedral of Muir first.

- - ---

The sun was setting as Katya slowly made her way up the slope of Mt. Anrier, 4 miles west of Elden. She had told the council she was going in search of a rare plant they were low in stock of in the medicine storage. Security was very tight at Elden at the moment, especially with the Queen out for diplomatic and war reasons. Every elf leaving Elden was required to carry full identification papers and a document stamped sealed by the council stating the purpose of the departure and the expected time of return. The seal also acted as a beacon so that if the elf truly wasn't where they claimed they were, the council would immediately become aware. Katya was just relieved they weren't reading minds yet, then again, with Jean out with Ororo, it severely limited the councils' abilities.

At last, she reached her destination: a ledge higher than Elden Wood's tallest tree with a cave that led into the mountain itself. She turned to scan the forest below her. Miles of expansive foliage spread out endlessly, nothing of Elden's tallest structure, the palace, even visible from this great height.

As she breathed in deeply of the clean mountain air, behind her, something stirred in the cave. A pair of yellow eyes began to glow larger as the creature approached her. Out of the shadows emerged a green and gold dragon, towering in height, at least 6 meters from its feet to its shoulders. As each of its powerful claws silently tread the ground, its scales, each about the size of a child's hand, glistened in the failing sunlight. It snaked out its long neck and puffed a bit of smoke from it's nostrils on the back of her neck.

Katya jumped then giggled, as she turned and patted the dragon playfully. "Lockheed, don't you ever get tired of that?"

The dragon snorted in reply. Katya had long given up on the possibility of the dragon being able to communicate with her verbally or mentally, as the dragon of the same name in a favorite childhood fairy tale had been able to. However, he understood her speech perfectly and his body language always spoke volumes.

She recalled the day she had discovered him, almost 80 years ago. She had gotten lost for the first time ever in Elden Wood. Seeing the mountain, she decided to climb it to try and search for Elden City. Upon reaching this same ledge, she scanned the horizon only to see endless forest. She collapsed to the ground, weeping uncontrollably in exhaustion, fear, and anger. She didn't notice the cave nor its habitant. A slight moan jerked her from her pity party and she turned in time to see the enormous dragon charging at her excitedly. Terrified, she jumped up to escape and in her haste tripped and teetered backwards on the edge of the cliff.

In a split second that seemed like an eternity, she fell backwards towards the earth below, arms flailing for something to grab but only reaching air. Before she could embrace her fate, the behemoth let out an ear piercing screech and dove off the mountain after her, jaws open. As if it were even possible, fear wrenched her gut tighter as she thought the dragon meant to snatch her out of the air like a cat with a bird. However, it soared past her and cushioned her fall on it's back before swooping back up and flying above the trees. It took Katya a moment to realize that she was not dead and that the dragon had _saved_ her. Tears streamed down her face as she slowly began to laugh nervously, releasing the tension that had built up. She reached down and held tightly to the dragon's smooth scales and whispered, "Thank you." The dragon snorted in reply as it headed back to the ledge.

Once back to the dragon's home and on solid ground, Katya was still cautious of this new creature. In her study's, it was always impressed upon a young elf that if you saw a dragon, you ran the other direction as fast as you could. They were cold, calculating, ruthless creatures and nothing could keep them from what they wanted. However, it seemed that this particular dragon defied the logic of her teachings. Warily, she approached him with a shaky hand oustretched and he readily moved his head towards her and she jumped back. He tilted his head questioningly.

"I only want to… touch your… head." Her voice was quivering. "To thank you."

The dragon bowed his head and moved it forward to her outstretched hand once more. This time Katya was able to appreciate the feel of his golden scales. They appeared smooth as polished armor but were actually rough in texture. His head and body were covered in these golden scales that made it appear he was decorated with coins. Vibrant green fins with red tips adorned his head down to where his wings emerged from his back. Even his tail had green fins. His wings were a slightly darker green with red boning inside to help him unfurl them. Expansive as they were, they sat compact against sides when not in use. "Gorgeous." She breathed.

The dragon tilted his head to his feet to feign bashfulness. Puzzled, she realized the dragon had been responding to her speech the entire time. "Can you understand me?" He perked up and snorted. "Can you speak?" His brow furrowed and he lowered his head in shame. "Oh. Well, that's ok. My name is Katya. I'm an elf."

She asked him a steady stream of yes/no questions, sometimes having to guess answers to more complicated questions to give him a yes or not option. It felt a bit silly at first but slowly, she began to understand his body language and they communicated well.

When asking about Elden, the dragon was even able to gesture in the direction she needed to reach her city and was willing to fly her there but she decided against it, knowing how Elves and any living being felt about dragons. Curious, she ventured to ask if he had a name, anticipating a long guesswork session again. Again, the dragon made the shameful expression. "Would you like for me to give you a name?" The dragon almost immediately lit up, and began stamping excitedly.

"Calm down!" she giggled and thought long and hard. Out of nowhere, a child hood story came to mind that her Nanna had always told her to get her to sleep. It was an adventure story about several races coming together to save the world from an evil shadow monster that ate dreams. A magical talking dragon befriended the group and gave it's life to save them from one of the monster's shadow demons. "How about Lockheed?"

The dragon lifted it's head to the sky and it's eyes went back in thought before it brought it's head back down and bobbed it's head up and down several times. "Ok, Lockheed you are!"

How Katya longed for the simpler days back then. For now, she was older and wiser and knew that somehow, Lockheed was going to be necessary for victory over Hades. It sickened her to know it but she was excited to know he was so important. She just prayed they would both survive the coming tribulation.

- - ---

Author's Note: I felt this chapter was lacking so I added to it recently to make it more relevant and in depth. 2-28-06


	11. Connection

Chapter 11

Night fell on Elden wood swiftly. Ororo guided the party to a small clearing off the path to rest. They were still in good spirits but well worn. It was still another day's journey to Nymon. As Ororo had instructed, no fire was built but the light of the moon filtering through the trees provided enough light for them to see each other.

Nathan and his men mingled together eating the meals the elves in the kingdom had packed for them: a tasty but unidentified meat, full grain bread, and Trinity Water. The Trinity Water was quite interesting, containing water from the pool of the Great Fairy, mixed in with snows from the Far North. The water was placed in a canteen with a binding spell cast by the elders of Elden. The combination created a rejuvenating water that replenished itself after a few hours. Just a few sips revived the King's sore muscles and weary mind.

Ten feet away, Ororo spent her dinner with Jean. "I know I should be taking this time to acquaint myself further with King Dayspring and his men but I need to let you in on a situation."

Jean swallowed her food. "Do not talk with your mouth open, Ororo."

Ororo stared at her icily.

Jean winced, "It was a joke, my queen. A joke."

The queen's gaze dropped to the ground. "I'm sorry. I am not in the mood for laughs." She took a small strip of meat and chewed on it thoughtfully as she continued, "Nathan needs you to train him to hone his magic."

Jean eyed her suspiciously. "What makes you think he has magic?"

Ororo went into great detail in regards to Nathan's heritage and his recent awakening since his arrival. Jean remained attentive, occasionally interjecting with her own questions until Ororo finished.

"That's fascinating! What puzzles me, though, is that even being half elf, he still shouldn't have magic. I'm not sure even a blessing by the Great Faerie herself could instill magic in him."   
Ororo shrugged. "That's all I know."

"Out of curiosity, did he tell you her name?"

"He said it was… was… blast! I cannot remember. Is it important?"

Jean paused in thought, looking disappointed. "No. I guess it isn't. If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to continue dinner near the rest of our company. I fear they feel they are being snubbed."

The two women carried their food over to the rest of their party, "Our apologies. I was just preparing my friend for your introduction, my lord. I'd like to formerly introduce you to Jean, my personal adviser and confidante. After discussing your situation, she believes she can help you a great deal."

Nathan nodded and rose to his feet and kissed Jean's hand. "A pleasure m'lady."

He stepped back and finally was able to see her in full view. The entire day he had been trying to get a good look at her but with her riding behind him, it was near impossible.

When he saw her for the first time that morning, a wave of excitement washed over him. It was Maddie! It was his mother! Almost 30 years and she had just come back to Elden was all! He almost ran up and wrapped his arms around her, never to let her go, telling her about everything she'd missed since she'd been gone; to tell her she would be so proud of him. He overheard Ororo call her "Jean" and immediately, reason washed over him. Anger creeped in to replace his joy and he stiffened. He felt like a damned fool. Of course his mother was dead. Still, the resemblance was uncanny…

He snapped out of his daze. "I'm sorry. What was that?"

Jean smiled warmly. "As soon as you're ready, I'm going to try a few simple exercises with you. To test your abilities and discover what exactly they are. If you wouldn't mind, for our own sake, and our companions, it would be best to practice out of harms way." She said, noting the swords and knives scattered around everyone.

"I can't think of a better time than now."

"Very well. Excuse us, Ororo." Jean hastily turned, arm locked in King Dayspring's. She was so lost in thought she hadn't considered the rudeness toward her friend. She led him, in silence to the shade under a tree. It was chillier, but she brushed the feeling aside. Under the tree were two rocks that she had moved with her magic to provide space for them to sit across from each other.

She sat and gestured across from her for Nathan to sit; he complied and she began, "Ororo gave me some details, but I think it would be best, coming from your own mouth, what you are experiencing. Curse this darkness." Reaching with her magic, she created a miniature torch and it cast off enough light to illuminate their faces. Her green eyes reflected the light from the torch, creating an eerie burning image in them. "Proceed."

"I'm hearing voices again. It was very confusing at first. I would think someone was talking to me and acknowledge a question or comment only to get a shocked look and a vehement denial they had said anything. Because this wasn't the first time this had happened, I realized what was happening and made sure to see moving lips before I answered anything."

"Are you able to tune the voices out at all?"

"Years ago, I could. I'm trying, and getting better, but it's like trying to use a muscle that hasn't been worked in a long time."

"That is exactly what it is like. Considering you have experience, no matter how long ago, I would imagine within a week you will be able to keep out all passive thoughts. Intrusive ones are another matter."

"Are you saying I can have people force their thoughts into my head?"

"Not purposefully. Rarely is it planned. Extreme emotions can be cast out of the mind with little thought, not everyone knows beings like us exist. That is why it will be most difficult for you in the coming months. You see, no matter how great control you have over your mind, it is near impossible to keep the anguish of the dying from entering your thoughts. It is one thing to hear the cries of the dying on a battle field, it is another thing to feel them."

"It sounds like you have personal experience."

She got quiet, holding his gaze, lost in thought. A smoking battlefield… waves of terror… frantic pleas for mercy… the exploding pain of wounds felt by others wracking her body. And the blood… so much blood… coming from her…

"My lady?" he touched her shoulder and she jumped.

"Oh… yes… I'm sorry. It's just…" she closed her eyes and sighed. "I guess it is best to show you. I need you to free your mind of as many thoughts as you can. I am going to pull you into my mind, for you to experience what I am warning you about. I am taking you to the fields of Nymon. The war between the Nymphs and Demons that occurred decades ago. I must caution you must remember this is all in your head however, it is possible for your mind to convince yourself it is real. Stick close to me. At the slightest sign of trouble, I will end this session. However, if you are uncomfortable starting this early, we can work on developing your abilities…"

"You say this is the most challenging issue at hand, so I feel it is the most important to focus. I think I'm ready."

"In that case… relax your mind. Concentrate on meeting me halfway and on one, open your mind's eye." The torch blazed and then began to flicker out as she concentrated on drawing the king into her mind. She reached out to hold his hands in hers, gripping tight as she could, and began counting slowly backwards from three. "Three… two… one..." The torch extinguished

- --


	12. Passing Time

Chapter 12

_On the other side of the camp…_

"Very well. Excuse us, Ororo." Jean hastily turned, arm locked in King Dayspring's.

"Of course." Ororo said to their backs as they walked to the opposite end of the camp. She felt a bit put out that Jean hadn't even waited for her reply. She sensed that there was something the flame-haired elf wasn't telling her. Sighing heavily, she dropped down to sit where Dayspring had been and sat in the lap of one of his soldiers instead. "Oh!"

"My lady! I am so sorry… I didn't mean…" He stood and offered her the seat.

She giggled. "No, no. It is my mistake."

"It offends me if you do not have this seat."

"What a predicament we're in. It offends me if you do not remain."

The brunette soldier's brow furrowed in conflict. The men of his troop were staring now and his chivalry as a soldier of Ayden, as well as a man, were conflicting with a request from a queen.

"If it will help, it's an order from your superior officer."

He hesitated, awestruck with the dark elf, and then finally took his seat and wrapped his cloak tight around his body with a shiver. "Thank you, my lady."

"No, thank you, kind sir. What is your name?"

"Hank McCoy. Henry if you'd prefer."

Ororo sat down on the ground across from him. She studied his appearance, noting his unusually broad shoulders and large hands and feet. He was not a small man by any means but nowhere near as towering as Dayspring. He had semi long brown hair tied in a neat ponytail and sported a well groomed mustache and separate goatee. "What is your position, Henry?"

His blue eyes lit up that the queen was interested in him. "I am a soldier, by title only. I am the King's medical advisor. Though I am not gifted in the magical arts of healing, am quite adept in the scientific arts thereof."

She tilted her head to the side. "Scientific arts of healing? What on earth is that?" He looked like she had slapped him so she immediately clarified herself. "I am truly curious as to what that means. I have never known much of the Outworld but it must be grand to have evolved so well without magic. I hope that doesn't come across as haughty…"

"No! Not at all!" The mistake clarified, he continued unwavered,"By healing with science, not magic, m'lady, one must observe how the body works and must understand how it heals itself before one can assist it. I'm sure you've noticed that you do not need to go to the 'Healer' for every minor injury you receive. It would be ridiculous. Headaches, stomach aches, small scratches- the body can heal them on its own. Through trial and error over the ages, or as I call them, experiments, 'healers' from across the world have developed herb potions for the headaches and stomach ailments. However, what about when you get a huge cut, say from a stab wound and a magic Healer is not around? It wouldn't do well to just lay their bleeding to death, now would it?"

Ororo seriously mulled it over and Hank couldn't help but smile at the genuine childlike naivety displayed. "No, I guess it wouldn't."

"Well, then you would be in luck if I were around. I have developed this new technique that helps close the wounds faster and keep infection out. It struck me one day when one of my servant girls was mending a worn pillow that's stuffing was seeping out. I was actually quite surprised to find that it hadn't been discovered sooner. You see, after you remove the object that inflicted the wound, if necessary, you cleanse the area with herbs to prevent it from getting infected. Then you take a needle and thread and sew the injury shut…"

"You are not serious, are you?" Ororo looked horrified.

"M'lady, it has a 100 success rate thus far. It helps keep the ends of the wound together and closes the open gap that would normally remain so that it can heal faster. And also, by having the wound shut, it keeps debris out that a normal wrap would not. Not to mention reduces scarring by a significant amount. Ask King Dayspring about it. He's had more than his share, believe me. It's a wonder the man is not dead."

Now here was a subject that she _needed_ to know more about. She tried to act casually interested. "Hm. How long have you known Nathan?"

"You've caught me off guard." He paused a moment in thought. "I would say close to 20 years. When we first met, formally that is, he was half dead on the side of the road. You see, we were both tutored under Xavier of Mera, God save him, but we were never tutored alongside each other. Nathan was a scholar of monarchy. He was taught laws, order, and diplomacy. I, on the other hand, was apprenticed in medicine."

"If you don't mind my bringing it up, you look considerably young for having attended school with King Dayspring."

The man grinned, white teeth flashing in the moonlight. "I do not mean to boast but I was… am… exceptionally advanced for my age. I was 14 years old at the time. He was 24. As you may have guessed from my appearance," he held up his large hands in the moonlight, "I wasn't the smallest of children."

"I hadn't noticed." She lied.

"You're too kind. I am half-barbarian."

The queen's shock was unmasked.

"I understand your reaction. Barbarians are considered filthy, primitive creatures. Untamed ones at least. There are a few that aren't stupid and can pass for normal members of society, if not for the odd features. As a 'half-breed' orphaned youth, I was harassed by the locals and children would taunt me with the nickname, 'Beast'."

"However, it was one fateful day that I was traversing from my home town of Kinata to Mera when I heard some movement in the forest on the side of the road. Concerned for my safety, as bandits will try anything to attack, dismounted my horse and approached with caution. And to my surprise I found Nathan, lying in the ditch bleeding to death from 3 arrows in his chest and a stab wound in his back. It appeared he had been attacked by the very bandits I was concerned about."

"It is difficult to picture him having been defeated so badly," she now crossed her legs and leaned forward on her palms, enthralled like a child.

"I don't know if you could call it a defeat. 10 feet away lay three savagely beaten bodies. It crossed my mind who was more dangerous, the very dead bandits or the half dead man at my feet. I dressed his wounds hastily with one of the medicine kits I had created to solicit in Mera and placed him as gingerly as I could on the back of my horse. I don't care if you're full Barbarian, lifting Dayspring is no easy task. Don't tell him but I dropped his face in the dirt the first two tries." His eyes twinkled in the moonlight and they both laughed at the visual.

"Now, he kept murmuring Xavier's name which made it apparent that he had ties in Mera. Since it was only 6 hours away, I continued through the day and arrived just before dusk. In the city, you can imagine I received many curious stares and a child poke him with a stick when I was asking for directions." His jovial laughter punctuated the sentence.

"You're kidding!"

"Not at all. It wouldn't be as funny if it weren't true. When I arrived at the palace, the guards were less than cooperative. After 20 minutes of insisting, they finally sent for their captain who nearly laid a golden egg when he saw who my passenger was. While Dayspring was transported to the medical wing of the palace, I was escorted to the main hall. After waiting another eternity, Xavier himself was in my presence. Let me tell you, m'lady, when a man like him walks in the room, you know it. It may sound odd but when you're in the presences of someone so intelligent, so… clever and accomplished… it would shrink the most powerful of monarchs. He asked me a few brief questions of my medicinal skills and was fascinated the combinations of herbs I had employed. It seemed that the King's wounds were closing at a dramatic rate due to my treatment. He had never had two scholars at once before but decided that my skills, especially working towards the betterment of life for mankind, were too important to let wane. And that is how I came to attend school the same time as King Dayspring."

"That is incredible. If you wouldn't mind, I would very much be honored to have you teach my kingdom's healers your methods. Knowledge like yours is invaluable and would be a great asset. You would be reimbursed handsomely for it…"

"The honor would be mine, my lady. To walk among the elves is an honor that only those in this forest have known. To have that privilege would be my pleasure."

Ororo peered over where Jean and Nathan were settled. She noticed in the light of the torch that Jean reached over and grabbed his hand. A shot of childish envy went through her and she tried to force it away, telling herself that it was nothing and she shouldn't be having such silly ideas. She needed to preoccupy herself some more. "Hank, would you mind introducing me to everyone else?"

"Not at all." He stood and turned to address the company. "Form up!" His voice was a rich baritone that managed to be authoritative without being abrasive. The men immediately dropped what they were doing and stood in formation, each man side by side to form a line before Ororo and Hank.

Beast gestured to the blonde man at the head of the line Ororo had encountered before, and had rescued earlier in the day. "Sam, I believe you have met. He is skilled in swordsmanship with his forte being archery, and he travels well. His primary task is technically messenger, but he's Ayden's pride and joy when it comes to the Several Kingdom's yearly games. There is no one faster on foot than he."

Sam bowed to her and smiled shyly. "An honor, My Lady."

She nodded her acknowledgement before asking, "What is this 'yearly games'?"

"Sam?" Hank prompted the young soldier.

"Yes sir. The Several Kingdom's Yearly Games is an occasion when several human kingdom's convene to participate in different skill challenges. The winner of each event is given a prize but the winning kingdom is given tribute from each of the participating Kingdoms."

"They pay the winning kingdom?"

"Not exactly, my lady. The tribute is usually a skill or item that is native to the country. For example, Ayden would offer a bounty of the coveted Aldart Root, a rare and costly medicinal herb that is native to our land."

"Fascinating. There is too much I am ignorant of about the Outworld." Ororo pursed her lips in frustration.

"Do not concern yourself, m'lady. Even less is known about Elden to us." Sam bowed once more and stepped back into formation.

Next in line was a man with waste length blonde hair pulled back in a high ponytail. A black tattoo of a star was around his left eye. "This, is Benjamin Russel. Our most skilled swordsman and former alchemist. Mr. Russel, will you please explain to the Queen what your skills are?"

Benjamin stepped forward and bowed to Ororo before speaking. "As Hank mentioned, I studied the art of metallurgy. Dual swords are my weapons of choice. These two, as a matter of fact," he withdrew them from their place on his back, "are my own creation." He handed them to her to hold.

"They're so light…" She marveled before returning the weapons to him.

"Watch." He directed the sword at a fallen limb nearby and began to hum. Immediately, by unseen force, the limb was severed in half.

She jumped at the sight. "I cannot believe it! How did you…?" she implored.

Benjamin remained stone faced. "Years ago, I formulated an entirely unique combination of metals and spells that I have not been able to replicate. These swords are indestructible and only I can channel a spell engraved in it. It sends a vibration across the air and cuts through anything in its way." He placed the swords on his back once more and stepped back into formation without instruction.

Hank was intrigued by the queen's reactions to everything. It was almost as if he were showing a teenaged girl the local theatre presentation for the first time in her life. "My lady, meet Roberto Da Costa. Originally a mercenary pirate, he is an expert navigator as well as an excellent fighter with a sword." Roberto, a man with short black hair and richly tan skin bowed to her.

"It is an honor to be in your presence my lady. Should you doubt where we are headed, I will be obliged to rectify your doubt."

"Thank you, kind sir."

"As you were." Hank ordered and the men went back to conversing freely amongst each other and getting settled in for the night. It was this moment that Ororo noticed a disturbance in the atmosphere. Nothing natural. Hank had turned to address Queen Ororo but paused noticing she was looking to the sky, searching for something.

"Hank…" she whispered.

"Are you alright, my lady?"

"Do you not feel that?"

Hank looked around, trying to see or hear whatever she was talking about. "I sense… nothing."

Ororo looked over where Jean and King Dayspring had been and saw that the torchlight had gone out. She sensed it coming before it hit her and she threw her arms up in a futile attempt to protect her psyche. "Oh, Goddess…" A wave of psychic energy struck and the wind was knocked out of her. She stumbled back, clutching her head.

"Ororo!" Hank grabbed her before she could hit the ground. Everyone jumped up, weapons out, searching for the unseen enemy.

"It's them… Dayspring… Jean… nothing… I can…" another psychic burst struck her and she blacked out.


	13. Astral Plane

Chapter 13

_The Battlefield of Nymon_

Immediately after she had said the word "one," Nathan felt like he had been ripped out of his body. At first, he couldn't see, everything was dark. Slowly, he began to hear muffled noises. The sound of metal on metal. Crowds. Then slowly, light began to filter through. He was pushing through a fog. Why couldn't he see? He had to exercise control to prevent panic. In his haze, he began to make out a figure in front of him. Flaming red hair flowing in an unfelt breeze. "Maddie?" he thought before she came into focus and realized it was not his mother in front of him.

Jean had picked up on his thought and she wanted to cry at the name of her twin. Deciding this was neither the time nor the place, she hastened to get through this. "Nathan, this is the astral plane. It is not physical but a mental state of being. Right now, I have formed a psychic bubble around you, it's shielding you from my memories for the time being. What you are about to see, is the battle of Nymon. Years ago, when Ororo was off in the wars…"

"Wars?" Nathan had no idea Ororo was an experienced warrior. She appeared too careless and fragile, a scrapper for sure, but a warrior?

"Yes. I must hurry. The strain this is putting on me, controlling myself, this memory and shielding you is increasingly difficult. Since King Achmed of Elden could not keep track of his daughter, his warriors kept dying in service, he asked me, in the thick of this battle, watch over her. Make sure she made it through. I may have the most powerful mind magic in Elden, but it was not without a cost. With my mind's eye on the field, I saw more than Ororo. I felt the death of every spent life on this field. Remember what I told you, this plane of existence is in the mind, but that does not mean physical damage will not ensue. I must release you now."

Upon his release, the world around him came into focus and was no longer muffled. He looked around him and realized he was up above the battle. They were in a gorge, a valley in the Nymon mountain chain, right outside of the very gates of the Nymph City. He looked below and saw hordes of demons attacking nymphs. Screams, shouts, roars, thundered through the air. He ducked as arrows whizzed past his head sinking into the sea of people. Thoughts began to creep into his head. Alien ones, anger, fear, repulsion, bloodlust… He closed his eyes to try and drowned it out. He wanted to kill, cry, run, scream, and die all at the same time. It was pulling his mind in every direction. The sorrow, the anguish, each emotion a needle in his brain. It began to suffocate him. He was drowning in their thoughts! He looked frantically for Jean but she had disappeared. He needed her, what was going on? Was he going to go insane on this Astral Plane?

Abandoning the search for her, he searched the see of chaos below him, hoping to see some kind of beacon or light to give him direction out of this hell. He gritted his teeth and began to sweat, concentrating on what were his own thoughts. To his right was a teenage boy, barely 15, looking terrified as a ghastly sharp-toothed demon leaped at him. Nathan wanted to interfere, why was a child this young out here? But knew that this boy's fate was already dealt. Out of nowhere, a soldier leapt between the two and cut the demon in half from skull to tail. Tar-like blood flew everywhere, yet it somehow missed the two left staning.

"Boy! This is no place for you! Be gone!" Shouted the warrior. Nathan tilted his head. Was that… a woman's voice? "Ororo! By the gods…" He watched as she manipulated her magic, lifting the boy in the air, and deposited him on the walls of the castle. She looked significantly different. Her long, white tendrils were gone, her hair cut short like a man's but her skin was still that rich honey brown. She was more gangly but obviously stronger from having fought for so long. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and began shouting orders at those around her, her voice surprisingly strong and overtaking the battle noise.

"I need to end this…" she thought desperately. Her blue eyes disappeared as the sky transformed into a tumultuous muddy mix of gray and purple. Wind ripped through the ranks and a bolt of lightning arced, striking the creature crawling toward her protector. All faces went upward, confused at the events. The air got deathly still and all was silent. A giant funnel cloud appeared in the sky, swirling, getting closer. It finally touched down, ripping through demon ranks, launching bodies everywhere.

Ororo was suddenly hit from behind, knocked forward and launched into the air by a scarlet red demon. Deft as a cat, she rotated in the air and attacked her foe in freefall. Nathan was entranced. Somehow, she was making battle an art, rather than a fight for survival. As she struck the ground, she stabbed her sword through the demon, pinning it to the ground, satisfied. He felt her panic and watched time slow as she looked up, panting, to see the drawn arrow aimed for her. It was a barbed armor piercing arrow. She closed her eyes in resignation and he heard her plea to the Great Faerie. The demon smiled and released the arrow.

A slight breeze ruffled the air and a man that seemed to appear out of nowhere flew between her and the arrow. It pierced through his body and he fell to the ground. Nathan watched as the pale, red eyed, brown haired man tried to stand up and collapsed. Without a second thought, and barely a glance, Ororo threw a dagger at the demon, the knife landing right in its throat. Ororo rushed to her savior's side, confused, yet determined to protect him while the demon's retreated.

Nathan attention was ripped away as he felt a sharp pain in his side. He looked down and saw that he had a burn mark the size of a fist just under his ribs on his right side. As he pulled is hand away, it was burned as well. He looked down and saw a demon that was grinning sadistically at him. It spit a ball of acid at him again and he twisted to avoid it. Why couldn't he move anywhere? "Jean!" he shouted. No answer. Where the hell did she go? He couldn't defend himself here… or could he? If this were a plane that existed in the mind… if he concentrated hard enough, couldn't he control himself like he could a dream? It was worth a shot.

He began to focus, ignoring the threat below him. Holding his hands out, he concentrated on a weapon to defend himself with. His hands began to glow gold as he zeroed in on materializing what he needed. In a matter of seconds, a heavy weight appeared in his hands and he opened his eyes to reveal he had created a polearm psimitar. He laughed in amazement and held it up. A gastly hiss below him brought him back to the present situation. "Come and get it, you little son of a bitch!" he muttered as he launched the psimitar at the creature.

The weapon seared right through the demon but not to the effect King Dayspring had in mind. An electrical crackle seared through the air. Light beams began to shoot out of the end of the psimitar. A rumble began that changed into a roar. The ground began to quake and crumble, flames shooting upwards. The sky began to melt down like paint on a canvas, filling the gaps below him and taking on a the fiery color of lava. He felt the build up of power below him and a wave lashed upwards, launched his psimitar back at him. He caught it and clung for dear life. "Jean! What's going on!" he screamed, knowing it was futile. He felt another, stronger, surge of energy building up. "Oh, flon-!"

The flames cut him off as they devoured his astral form.


	14. Unleashed

Chapter 14

A normal man would have panicked. Hank McCoy, however, did his best work under pressure. Checking to make sure her heart was beating and she was still breathing, he scooped Ororo up in his arms and began shouting orders to the men. "All of you on your guard! The king is in danger!" He ran across the camp to where he had seen Ororo gesture, the other three men only paces behind. He was stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of both of them under the tree.

Nathan lay still, mumbling words that Hank would've sworn were Elvin. The king's clothes were singed and he had burns on his side and on his right hand. Only feet away lay some kind of polearm weapon. Puzzled, he turned his attention to Jean. She was not doing so well. The red haired woman was thrashing in an unconscious fit, the irises of her eyes had disappeared and were glowing an intense, fiery orange.

"What is wrong with her?" DaCosta asked.

"Oh damn…" Hank had only read about this before. Thinking quickly, he practically shoved the sleeping Ororo into Benjamin's arms. "Make sure the queen keeps breathing. Something… some kind of unseen force rendered her unconscious. She said it originated from these two. Guthrie! Wrap the king's burn wounds!" Fumbling around in the moonlight he found what he'd been looking for. "Don't just stare, DaCosta. Hold her down!" The soldier complied, obviously unnerved at the sight of the convulsing woman. He struggled at first and finally got a grip on her shoulders.

At being held down, Jean arched her head backwards opening her mouth to say something and Hank took the opportunity to place the stick he had found between her teeth and she unknowingly clenched down on it. Firmly and as gently as he could, he followed the motions of her head to keep the stick from falling out. Through gritted teeth, he began to explain to the others what he felt was going on. "She's having what is called a seizure. It was once thought to be caused by curses and magic. However, I suspect, considering the nature of our lady, it is most definitely associated with the mind."

_Several minutes prior…_

Jean observed Nathan as he absorbed the war surrounding him. Even though she had told him she'd removed the mental shield around him, she had only weakened it for his sake. She was straining to keep the mental onslaught on his psyche to a minimum while at the same time, doing something she vowed never to do. It was taxing but it also allowed her to slip into his mind unnoticed since he would have felt no intrusion, considering the intrusion had already occurred with her shield. She had to see his memories.

She navigated through his mind searching through time to find what she needed. Each memory was a flash like a photograph, with Nathan getting progressively younger and the memories getting less complicated. It was at the moment she found what she had been looking for.

A red haired woman, she could've mistaken for herself. She was lying on a four poster bed, wrapped in blue silk sheets. Her face was pale and sweat soaked her body. "Nathan, do not linger in the doorway. Please come here." She brought a cloth to her lips and coughed.

Jean felt her body begin to move, walking across the room to the bedside. As she passed by a mirror, she glanced.at it; noting the face of a young boy looking back at her. He was no older than 8 or 9 with brown hair and blue eyes. A young, smooth face that had known no hardships to this point and no idea the man he would become: the future King of Ayden. She stopped several feet from the bed.

Madelyn's green eyes burned intensely into Jean's. "Nathan, I am getting weaker. Soon, mommy will have to leave you but I want you to know that it is not because I don't love you. I love you so very much, more than life itself." A tear slid down her cheek.

Nathan was melancholy. "Why can't I come with you?"

"I wish you could, baby, I really do. But, you must wait. I am being called to leave because I have done all I can here. You, however, have much to do. It will be many years before you understand but you are special. You will bring hope and light to the rest of the world when there is only darkness. Now, I know your father said not to but come closer. I want to hold my son one last time."

The child complied and climbed into bed, wrapping his arms around his mother's neck. Jean felt Nathan's struggle to not cry, a valiant effort even at his age. Madelyne pulled him away and set him on her lap. She pulled something out from her pillow and held it up for the boy to see. It was an amulet comprised of a gold crown with a silver sword pierced through the middle where the crown would rest upon a head. Silver vines were entwined around the sword, holding it steadfast. "Nathan, this is something I have saved for you since you were just a baby. It is very special however, I need you to hide it away until later so your father will not find it."

"Is it right to hide things from father?"

Madelyne couldn't help but smile down at her son's honesty. She cleared her throat before she continued. "This is the only thing I give you permission to hide from him. Never speak to anyone about it. Promise me?"

"Promise." Jean's hand stretched out to receive the amulet. As soon as the amulet touched her astral form, her powers went out of control. She had not anticipated on Nathan's memories of his power being awakened and his inexperience in the memory overwhelmed her as thoughts around her spiraled out of control and flooded her head. Her concentration broke, as did her hold on the adult Nathan on the Nymon field. She felt several surges of her magic trying to unleash and she fought to keep the power inside, the strain making her nauseous. Wings of fire shot out of her back and she screamed in pain and desperation. She was determined to keep herself in check, for the sake of King Dayspring but there was no fighting it. With a tremendous shriek, the Phoenix ripped itself from her body in a flaming fit, its body burning up everything of this memory around it before finally receding into Jean once more.

_The Present…_

Sound slowly floated to Ororo's ears. Drowsy, she tried to rouse herself out of her sleep. She heard shuffling and heard a heartbeat in her ears. "Remy?" she mumbled nuzzling in closer. No… Remy didn't have a heartbeat…

"Your majesty…" the inquiring voice brought Ororo to her senses. Whose voice was that? Opening her eyes she met the gaze of a concerned Benjamin Russel.

"Great Faerie!" she exclaimed, nearly falling out of his arms in her confusion. He nonchalantly set her feet on the ground, obviously not as embarrassed as she. Before she could ask what was going on, she knew as she watched Hank and Roberto DaCosta over her writhing friend. She dropped to her knees next to the men, desperate for answers.

She grabbed Jean's hand, holding it tight. "Hank, what is happening to her? I've… I've no idea why…" Jean's form went limp and Ororo's eyes widened. "is she.. no… no… no…"

Hank placed an ear to her chest, no heartbeat present. "Ororo, do you trust me?" Hank asked her, panting with perspiration running down his face.

"What!"

"I think I can save her but you have to trust me."

"Anything! Please!" Ororo wished more than anything that she could be held at that moment. She watched as Hank went to work. Placing a hand over Jean's nose, he opened her mouth with his other hand and put his mouth over hers. At first, Ororo was incensed thinking he was cruelly kissing her friend in this vulnerable state, just after asking for her trust! Then she saw his cheeks puff out as he blew air into Jean's mouth, the woman's chest rose with the breath. He then moved down and placed his hands just below her ribs and began pushing in with quick, successive thrusts, then going back to helping her breathe.

In his mind, Hank was getting frustrated. Jean was going to need more than oxygen and his compressions were doing nothing to help her heart. It needed shocked back… he had a generator he had been experimenting with back in Ayden but there was no way he could assemble something like that out here. He needed a shock.. shock… shock… an idea crossed his mind. Risky, but there was nothing else to do. "Ororo! You control the elements, correct? Do you use lightning as well?"

"I… I have but…"

"Do you think, you could create a minor static shock and concentrate it on her chest, right here?" Hank placed his hands over Jean's heart. The clock was ticking.

"My magik isn't that fined tuned! I could kill her!"

"She's lost either way, Ororo. This is desperation here. You're her only hope."

Panic enveloped her "I can't!"

"When I say go, do it!" Ororo snapped to attention and hovered over Jean, praying to the Great Faerie and whispering to summon her magic, as if the softer she talked, the softer her power would be. He breathed into Jean's mouth 3 times, "Go!"

Ororo winced and placed her hands on Jean's chest. A shock went through her friend and he body arched upwards. "Goddess!" Tears were streaming down Ororo's face. Hank ignored her, "Again!"

"No!"

"Do it!" he roared, not caring how he addressed the queen.

She complied and Jean's body arched upwards again. Hank placed an ear on the still woman's chest. Still no beat. "Again!"

"I won't!" she was adamant.

"Ororo, If you do not do this, you are responsible for her death! There is still hope-"

"This is barbaric!" she shrieked and regretted it almost as soon as it left her mouth. Hank brushed hair out of his eyes and held her gaze. The other men stared in disbelief, the air tense.

"Ororo, I will not ask you again."

Her eyes dropped and she placed her hands over Jean's body again. They began to glow a brilliant blue and she pushed down on her friend's chest which gave one last writhing arch. Hank listened to her heart one more time before looking up solemnly at Ororo. "She's back. DaCosta, will you please carry our lady to camp and wrap her in any available blankets while I tend to our king?" DaCosta nodded and picked up Jean, pulling her away from Ororo.

Hank rose slowly, obviously worn out. Ororo was painfully aware he was avoiding looking at her and he was aware of her shame. He knew the remark was unintentional but the bite was still there.

"Hank… I'm so-"

"Don't worry about it, my queen."

"Thank you."

"Just rest, my lady." He watched her follow his comrade carrying her friend. Gone was his jovial mood. Mechanically, he inspected the work Sam had done with the King's wounds.

With a moan, Nathan regained consciousness and brought a singed hand to his head, wincing. "Hank?"

"In the flesh, my king."

The king's eyes opened and focused in the darkness on his friend's face. "What happened?"

"I feel the need to ask you the same thing."

"I want to stand." Nathan began to stand up and lost his balance, Hank catching him in time. "No. I want to sit." He fumbled around and sat down on the rock he had been seated on 20 minutes earlier.

Benjamin Russell provided a canteen of water that the King consumed unabashedly. "Thank you. You're dismissed." The blonde soldier took his leave and Nathan turned to address Hank who was crouched on the ground, hand on his chin in thought. "Hank, they came back."

"Who?"

"No. _They_."

"Oh."

"Jean's magik is similar to what I've been experiencing. So, Ororo requested that she work with me to help me control it. She somehow was able to place me in one of her memories. She was trying to explain how difficult this upcoming battle was going to be with these new abilities. That hearing the dead and experiencing it were two different things."

Hank pondered it. "Continue."

"Something happened and Jean disappeared. I… I was attacked by some kind of demon. That's where these burns came from. I was able to create some kind of weapon to defend myself but when I attacked it, everything went crazy in there. I felt some kind of force push all of the air out of me and then… nothing."

Hank looked to the left or Nathan. "Your weapon, wouldn't happened to have been polearm would it?"

Nathan looked at Hank with suspicion and Hank nodded to the ground next to the king.

"By the gods…" The king picked it up with his good arm. "I… pulled this from my mind? Incredible!"

"Agreed. My king, I want you to keep a close eye on Ororo and her friend."

"Do you not trust them?"

"It is not that. Ororo is very honest and dedicated, albeit a bit juvenile. The woman needs to learn to think before she speaks."

"Don't I know it." The two men exchanged smiles.

"What is fascinating is her abilities are developed just a fraction of their potential. However, it is her friend that concerns me most. I don't feel that she was trying to hurt you but I think it is best to take these lessons slow, for both of you. This is speaking as a friend, not a medical adviser."

The King nodded. "Tonight has been hell."

"Don't I know it. I am too tired to ask questions of the queen." Hank didn't want to admit it was her comment that made him want to keep his distance.

"I'll take care of it tomorrow. I would like to wait for Jean to awaken. I have the most incredible headache."

"I would like for you to know why Ororo was affected."

"What happened to Ororo?" Concern invaded the king's voice.

"She was unconscious for a period of time. She said that the reason was from you and Jean. This was before we discovered you both under this tree. Strangely enough, the horses seemed to sense nothing, now that I think about it."

They both sat in silence for a minute before Hank stood and offered a hand to Nathan. The king took it and slowly rose to his feet, still a bit awkward on real land, and he hobbled to the others with the help of his friend.

Author's note: Please drop me a review, all comments (constructive) welcome. Thanks for the encouragement Kendrat199


	15. Saints and Martyrs

Chapter 15

The following morning, the party traveled in mostly silence. Ororo was dead on her feet, having stayed awake the whole night watching over her friend. She remembered lying awake, staring intensely at Jean, wishing and hoping that maybe, if she tried hard enough, she could will the woman to wake up. Her worry made her sick and she got up several times to pace around the perimeter. Several times she kneeled and prayed. In the end, she had watched the black sky fade to purple and then a fiery gold as the sun began to rise. She wondered if Jean would ever see another sunrise.

After everyone had loaded their horses with their bedding, she requested Roberto to navigate the forest as Jean was incapacitated. The soldier humbly accepted the task and estimated they were only 2 days journey from their destination. Jean was placed on Hank's horse, seated in front of him so he could make sure she remained stable. Ororo insisted on bringing up the rear, feeling better if she could keep an eye on everything. She also felt ashamed and thought there was less chance to be watched. She felt like such a fool after last night. Ororo, queen of the elves, most graceless creature to walk the earth she thought smugly. Lost in thought, she hadn't realized it had begun to rain.

The sky darkened and thunder rumbled in the distance. At least Remy assumed it was thunder. With tense times like this, it was risky to assume anything. Lightning seared the sky and as if it had cut open the belly of the heavens and rain began to pour in a torrent. Within seconds, he was soaked to the skin and trodding through inches of mud. As miserable as the conditions were, he enjoyed it. The rain always made him think of his precious elf, Ororo. He was thankful that the primary advantage of being undead was he didn't have to worry about the repercussions of enjoying the cold rain.

A few more paces, and he came to a clearing in the forest. Mist from the rain billowed upwards revealing a temple seemingly lost in the wilderness. The Muir Cathedral. A three story gray stone structure built from rock cut from the nearby Nymon Mountain Chain. It had 4 turrets on each of its corners and one tower in the middle. Torches blazed along the cathedral's walls, flickering in the heavy downpour.

Long ago, it had served as the Madri Temple. The Madri were a cult formed by a mad sorcerer that replicated himself and carried out orders by the deviant Shadow King. In the Shadow Wars, the Muir Sisterhood, a sect of human women working in the name of the Great Faerie Tania, defeated the Madri and took up residence in the temple. That had been centuries ago but the Sisterhood still faced trouble washing the temple free of the spirits that lingered within the walls.

It was here that Remy confessed his sins and helped rectify his past by helping cleanse the temple. Interesting how no matter how holy and pure one can be, sometimes evil will only answer to evil.

He raised a hand to knock on the great oak doors but they opened before he made contact. A small, brunette woman peeked her head out. "Welcome, Remy. I had a feeling you would grace our door soon."

"Moira." He bowed and entered. The doors closed with a heavy thud behind him. Moira held a torch up and examined him.

"I see the years have been somewhat kind t' ye."

"Likewise. How are the girls?" He was inquiring about the rest of the sisterhood, shaking the water out of his hair as he did so.

She held a hand up, shielding her face from the flying droplets. "Honestly, Remy. No better than a mongrel!" She took his coat and began to lead him down the main hall. "Things here have been almost peaceful since you last helped out, Remy. I would never have guessed how much evil had occurred here. The poor souls wandering these halls… It has taken centuries but I think most of them have been able to pass on. We wouldn't have been able to do a great deal of it without you. As you can guess, we haven't been able to cleanse the 2nd level dungeons yet. Too risky."

Remy shivered unconsciously, remembering the cleansing of the 1st level dungeon. Spells had been cast on the walls of the Cathedral, locking in the spirits of the tortured dead. Demons had been lurking in the halls, feeding off of the despair of those trapped spirits. The Demons also made no discrimination between the spirits of the dead and the souls of the living.

Almost 15 years ago, it was by chance he had discovered the temple and was lodged for the night. Under the guise of being blind, he had tied a rag around his head to hide his red eyes, and gained the sisters trust through acts of deceit. Something he was no stranger to. After dinner, he overheard the sisters fearful meeting about it being near impossible to get down there to cleanse the dungeons before one was slaughtered. Naturally, no one wanted to go near it and many were bringing up talks of defecting considering the threat that thrived below their very feet.

Of course, his curiosity was getting the best of him. So many years after Ororo, he still felt little need to continue living with that damned hunger in his body. He could try and feed off of the power of the thing plaguing the Sisters or it could kill him. Why not take his chances against the beast? After confessing that night, he headed down to the dungeon, passing Moira as he did.

"Where are you headed, my son?" She asked, assuming the poor blind soul had gotten lost as he felt his way along the wall.

"I've overheard your fellow sisters, telling of a dungeon in this cathedral where no one can survive long enough to free the dead souls. Is this true?"

"Aye. But it is none of your concern." Her brow furrowed, wondering what a blind man would have to do with such matters.

He grinned his brilliant smile, sharp teeth flashing in the torch light. "My dear sister, you perform acts for those you do not know that do not concern you. Please, do not question my desire to aid you." He continued towards the stairway to the dungeon, fumbling along the wall in feigned limitation.

She chased after him, grabbing his hand, noting how icy it felt. "This is suicide, my son! In your condition, I cannot allow you…"

Remy wrenched his hand from her grip and lost control enough to incite panic in the woman. He wrapped a hand around her neck and pressed her to the wall, she squirmed desperately to break away. Her eyes widened in terror as he ripped the rag away from his face and revealed his charade, his red eyes began to glow and his teeth stretched downward. "I have not fed off of a human in 100 years and have no desire to kill you, sister." He snarled at her. "However, I do have a desire to kill whatever it is that is down there. You can either force my hand at feeding off of you, or I can solve your problem and mine by feeding off that thing. Choose."

She stopped struggling. "Put me down. I shall unlock the door for you."

"Wise woman." He gently lowered her and retracted his fangs, recomposing his humanity. He could smell her fear yet she remained composed. He was impressed.

Moira's emotions were mixed, terrified at the man before her, relieved he was willing to aid her Sisterhood, guilty he was on a death mission, and betrayed at his deception. She fumbled with the key of the lock she had just finished checking moments previously and it finally gave with a click. "My son… you may perish." She opened the door a crack for him, expecting him to turn away.

Instead, he stepped forward, swallowed by shadows behind the door, "I can only hope." He thought as the door shut behind him.

_The present_

Remy sat kneeling, hands clasped in front of him, confessing his sins. The woman sat behind a silk screen, only her shadow visible. Even though they knew who each other was, it was somehow easier to reveal himself in this manner. He enjoyed the feeling of normalcy it gave him. It calmed the uprising within him he had learned to tolerate. "Moira, I'm back where I was all those years ago. I need something… I cannot bear to kill anymore."

"Anymore…" she mused. "I recall you telling me you had not taken a human life in over a century. Has that changed?"

He sighed bitterly. "Several years after we first met, I contented myself to prey on criminals. Even now, that disgusts me. It only fills me with their hatred and self loathing. I have been feeding off forest creatures but… there is a tie I have, that is getting stronger and nothing is quenching it. I am being called and it is too painful. It needs subdued."

"Ah. Her?"

"Who?" He cocked his head to the side.

"The elf. You look surprised, my son. When you were last here, you may have come out victorious but you were ragged, barely alive and hallucinating. I cared for you until you regained full conscious. In your delirium, you told me lots of things, calling me 'Ororo.'"

Embarrassment and frustration washed over Remy. "I am sorry… it was nothing."

"I am not one to pass judgment and the things you confessed would make a Sister blush, but not a Blessed Mother." She winked. "Those words are in the past but I can read on you that the feelings are not. If your feelings have not waned these past decades, you should approach the source. You may have immortality, but you do not own time. And time does not stand still for your kind, Remy Lebeau."

Her words, though ambiguous, were so true they almost brought relief to him. He brushed a damp strand of hair behind his ears and finished his confessional with a prayer to Tania. Finishing, he rose with determination. "I suppose it is time."

"Aye." Solemnly, she lit a torch and began to lead him down a familiar corridor.

Neither of them said a word as they traveled through the 1st level dungeon. Remy noted the new spells and religious relics adorning the walls. Moira placed her torch on the wall just inside the dungeon and the room was immediately illuminated. The sisters had cleverly set up an array of mirrors where only one torch was needed to light the entire hallway. The place, once filled with the spirits of the dead, was now completely devoid of any life.

They reached the end of the chamber and she began to work the keys into the 6 padlocks on the door. He was almost worried at the sight of the multiple spells written on the door and chains and multiple padlocks, wondering what could be so atrocious to need that much to hold it back. Silently, she pulled open the door and a sour gust of air exited. He stepped into the corridor and the door was swiftly shut behind him.

With no torch available, he relied on his senses and one of his only blessings as a vampire. His red eyes enabled him to at least make out shapes and shadow forms in the dark, although not tremendously detailed, his other sense made up for what his eyes lacked. Although he could only hear air whistling through the stairwell, he could feel something lurking about, an evil that disgusted even he. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he was amazed at the sight of light orbs dancing around in the dungeon. They were various colors and incalculable in number. No wonder it had taken the Sisterhood centuries to bring light to this structure.

The rumors of the Madri atrocities were minor compared to what he was seeing here. He could smell blood in the air as thick as if he were bathing in it. He made no effort to suppress the demon in him, actually welcoming it. That glorious, painful ache of his fangs emerging and his ears extending into points as well, catching vibrations of movement in the air.

Proceeding on the side of caution, he remained still, listening, hunting with only his senses in the dark. He could hear deep steady breathing, approaching closer. At the other end of the corridor, he caught sight of his foe. And it was just as hungry as he was.


	16. Inner Demons

Chapter 16

_Hades…_

Nathaniel Essex stalked the corridor leading to Nur's private chambers. Always silent, always thinking more than he was willing to let on, he was a living enigma. A vampire nearly three thousand years old, he had long ago cast aside anything resembling human emotion and had much practice in the arts of deception. He had much distaste for the latest development of Nur's yet was unable to devise a way around it. He pounded on the looming door in front of him and the door opened without a verbal warning from the other side.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him. Examining the room in it's meticulously kept gothic state; he noticed the shape of Nur through the black lace curtains on the balcony. His feet tread the stone floor silently and as he passed the iron framed bed, he noticed the portrait of Ororo above the hearth nearby. It disturbed him the obsession Nur had taken with her, though he could understand why. Nur's lust was driven by power through land, but Essex's interest was power through magik. "My Lord?"

"I trust the Shadow King is in place?" Nur said to the man behind him, his gaze not wavering from the north horizon.

Essex bowed slightly before replying. "Yes. The sisters were somewhat difficult to deal with, their loyalty unwavering towards the… wretch…"

"What did you do?"

Nathaniel couldn't help but sense that Nur wanted to know not from curiosity, but perversion. "The Blessed Mother is the only one left. It took the cries and wails of the dying to convince her that my way was best. That and I wasn't going to let her live to release their souls after all was done. It is intriguing the pity the living have on the spirits of the dead when it's all they've known for so long."

"Why didn't you remain?" his voice became gravelly, almost irritated. Even though a man of few words, Nur was adept at putting his distaste in his tone of voice.

"We can sense our own kind, my lord. It would not have been wise for me to stay. That and the Shadow King will return after all is said and done."

Accepting this answer, the dark lord move on. "Xavier has been dealt with?"

"He has been disposed of. After the King of Shadows had his way with his mind, I saw no more use out of him. We garnered all the information to put Ororo's friend out of commission; sadly, Dayspring eluded the same fate as the red haired witch."

"And now, Shadow King is where he belongs- the dungeon below Muir, awaiting our noble little friend." He almost became smug.

"Correct. And surprisingly quite pleased with the power inside the creature he inhabits in that forsaken pit." The detachment in Nathaniel's voice belied the irritation he felt. Nur's vendetta was a thorn in his side and a threat to the future he had mapped out. Vampires like Lebeau were nonexistent and Essex never had a chance to find out why or how the tortured man was able to remain just that- still a man. An immortal with mortal passions, feelings, and morals. What had he done wrong…?

"Nathaniel?"

"Yes my lord?"

"Dispose of his corpse tomorrow and that of the so called 'Blessed' Mother. I'd rather not wait for the King of Shadows to not show up on my door to know that something went awry. In the meantime, I'll make the last preparations for tomorrow's march to the Barbarian city of Travent."

"As you wish, sire."

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The creature before Remy was panting heavily, obviously under strain. Previously mindless as a wild dog, it now was at the mercy of the Shadow King though the beast was not taking it well inside its own head. He was more than delighted when Essex had revealed his host- such a powerful being was more than suitable for he, especially since creatures like this were so difficult to come by anymore: a Hell Hound.

Its form, just over 7 meters, was quite intimidating. Metal spikes ran down its spine having been embedded ages ago and not natural to its form. It walked the ground on four legs, each foot adorned with claws that curved down in points. 6 eyes dotted its face, glowing orange, and blinking in separate intervals, ensuring it could see at all times. The most terrifying feature was its jagged, 6- inch long teeth that filled its mouth.

Long ago, the Shadow King had a name. Over time, it became lost among the texts of the history of man, the few whose lips it had passed never spoke it again. Once a dark sorcerer, he bonded with darkness itself, his body becoming intangible and elusive as the shadows he dwelled among. Though no longer physical, he became more deadly, able to invade the minds of the unwary, and after using them for his own whims, discarding their bodies, leaving them mindless husks.

It had been a long time since he had haunted the halls of this Cathedral and it disgusted him to see the Sisters crusading to bring light to its dark passages. This was the only reason he agreed to assist Nur. He could care less about the small vampire in front of him but at the promise of restoring his stronghold to him, he would enjoy tearing this small man in half. Even though he would prefer to rip apart the man's mind, attacking the spirit was much more delicious. That and vampires' minds were fickle and impossible to control, considering the dual personalities of the human and the demon in one body.

"Remy… I have been wai…ting." He strained to form words out of a mouth that had never known language.

"Neh?" The vampire stepped back in defense, caught off guard by the creature's voice. The demon within him was thinking of nothing more than feasting but relented enough to gauge the situation.

"Forgive me. It is not easy forming words with this mouth. My host isn't being cooperative either." More puffs of air heaved from the animal.

"Who are you?"

"Who I am does not concern you." He began closing the distance between them, though his motions were slow and deliberate, the size of the stride more than made up for it. "I have a message for you. From Nur." He giggled slightly, crazed.

"Merde." Remy muttered under his breath. That bastard had finally found him.

The Shadow King grinned and Remy could make out the sharp teeth glinting in the glow of its eyes. "Unfortunately, it does not involve words." With that, he lunged at Remy, his teeth grazing the man's shoulder.

Remy rolled away, a sharp burn in his right shoulder. He put a hand to it and pulled away, feeling a familiar sticky wetness. Blood. Cursing inwardly, he dodged yet another attempted blow at his body. He had to think fast. This creature was four times his height, four times as fast, and obviously had more sharp teeth. The one advantage he did have was that whomever it was that was inside the creature was not used to the body of this hound and the size of it were inhibiting him in these close quarters.

Withdrawing his sword, he decided to find out if this creature could bleed anywhere other than it's neck.

-------------------------------------------

Mist enveloped Jean as she lay stretched out on a stone altar. She struggled to gain control of her body. She screamed in frustration, no sound coming from her lungs. Where am I?

She knew where she was, her mind. _Where_ in it was another matter. She seemed to be floating in nothingness. A cloudy memory, with no tangible features. She heard nothing, felt nothing, and yet could not will anything to happen.

She relaxed and began to focus her mental energies. Something was very wrong. Somehow, Nathan's magik reacted with her own, some kind of feedback making her a prisoner of her own mind. I may be a prisoner of my own mind, but I am also the warden. she declared.

A burning sensation washed over her body as she centered her mind on freeing herself. Though intense, it felt healing. A bright orange flame washed over her body and she burst from the shell containing her.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Just as the Shadow King pounced at him again, Remy slid underneath and stabbed the beast from underneath. The blasted thing had moved too quickly and his aim was off and all he ended up doing was injuring its back left leg, rather than its stomach like he intended. The animal landed less than gracefully and slid into the wall on the far side of the room. It rested there as the Shadow King reassessed his situation and regained control of his mental faculties. He was obviously struggling with his control over the animal and Remy gained a glimmer of hope in this.

Remy approached cautiously, wondering if it were possible such a small wound could have incapacitated the thing. His eyes remained focused on the glowing orange ones that stared unblinkingly on him. Out of the darkness, a clawed hand swatted at him and flung him into a wall of broken cell bars, his sword clattering across the room. One rusty bar stabbed right through his left shoulder and another through where a kidney used to be. An unearthly roar ripped itself from his body as the pain invaded him. His animalistic nature took over and he reached behind him, grasping the other bars and pushed himself off of the skewers.

--------------------------

Jean rose from the altar in surprise and brought her hands up to her face. They were glowing intensely, ornamented with fire. Not uncommon for the astral body to take on attributes that do not exist in the physical realm, Jean was haunted by the intensity of the power that radiated from her. This was no mental creation. This was her.

She slid her legs off of the altar and with a wave of her hand, gave form to the air below her. She stepped forward and came in contact with an invisible wall and smiled. Her hands thrust forward, permeating the wall, and parted it. The result was a hole ripped through the magik fabric of it that allowed her to step through.

Stepping out of her prison was more than a breath of fresh air. It allowed her to know everything that happened up until her imprisonment. And she knew who was in her mind. She had heard about him before, warned you might say. Over the centuries, it was believed him dead. His timing couldn't have been worse or more obvious who he was working for. He picked the wrong mind to invade.

This was her mind and whoever dared trespass was going to pay dearly. Angry, she lashed out at her attacker with fiery talons.

"Amoul Farouk!" she hissed, "You die today!"

-------------------------

The pain was agonizing and Remy coughed, blood coming up. Why could he never convince himself he didn't need air anymore? The remnant blood in his body left over from his last kill was seeping out, leaving him dizzy and unfocused. It was becoming harder to restrain himself. Would his humanity finally die here? Half of him wanted to die and give up, embrace the inevitable. The other half still clung to the memories of Ororo. Before he succumbed to his darker half, a vision appeared to him. An intense light illuminating the shape of a woman whose face was hidden by shadow. She called to him with no voice and extended a hand, beckoning him to join her. Then everything went black.

When Remy re-awoke seconds later, it was not him in his body, but rather the suppressed demon within him. It had been denied real blood too long and this wrestling match enraged it. Centuries it had fought with its host's soul, not allowed to partake in its carnal desires. Never in its damned existence had it believed it would receive such resistance from such a feeble animal as this man, Remy Lebeau.

------------------------------

The Shadow King was wary. His hold on the red haired woman had been damaged and any attempts at regaining control were futile. In the millennia he had roamed the Earth, he had not encountered a mind as strong as hers. It was tricky ensnaring her in the first place, and he seized the perfect opportunity when she was bonded with the King of Ayden. Somehow, when he went to capture the King as well, a psychic weapon from the man had interrupted and almost purged him from Jean's mental psyche as well. Through sheer mental will he had dug his claws into her mind and remained, imprisoning her in her precious weak seconds in the aftermath.

Unlike Remy, he could see in the dark just fine. Now, he noticed a change in the wretch 6 yards to his left. Just minutes before he had swatted the pest away while trying to regain control of Jean and by the dark lady of luck, the vampire had become impaled on the bars of a damaged cell.

A psychic wave washed over his mind, attempting to purge him from the Hell Hound. The red-haired witch was loose and had gone on the offensive and… did she know his name? The burning… how could one so inexperienced overwhelm him in his own domain? The power was eating away at him!

As the demon hound writhed with Farouk's pain, the Shadow King initially took no notice of the vampire removing himself from the iron stakes. The change in his human victim's mental faculties caught his attention. The fear and self loathing completely left the man and were replaced with intense hatred, exhilaration, and hunger. Not for blood, but for death. The vampire's body stiffened and he picked himself off the floor, taking little notice to his gaping wounds. A drunken grin formed on his face and his eyes burned like hot coals.

With little effort, he reached behind himself and wrenched one of the broken cell bars free. Remy looked at the bar, and then at the Shadow King and then charged, the Shadow King helpless to stop him.

---------------------------

As Jean ripped through Farouk's mind, she was disappointed at the caliber of her foe. Only through tricks did he manage to get a hold of her, yet she was not surprised considering it came from a man famed to lurk in shadow. She enjoyed his pain too much as she burned out his mind. It was in his last moments that she realized that the Shadow King's pain was not only mental. Something was physically attacking him which was impossible unless he inhabited a host as well. Was he really so foolish? she wondered, almost insulted at his underestimation. Cautiously, she extended herself to find who was finishing her work.

----------------------------

The vampire demon brutally attacked the hound, releasing centuries of pent up rage, it was nothing short of savage. The hound wailed in equal anger and pain, still fixed in place by the dying Shadow King. The demon bludgeoned the creature savagely, breaking bones with every blow of the cold steel, enjoying its suffering. He had suffered long enough and it was time others experienced his same torment. With a final blow to its front legs, the demon creature collapsed with ragged breath.

Standing upon the back of the half dead animal, he dropped the rusty metal in satisfaction and screamed with joy for the first time in centuries. Never again would he be pent up like a common demon. Damn Remy and his soul, never again! With a sneer, he lunged at the creatures' neck and drained it.

----------------------------

Jean watched in silence as Remy fed off of the Hell Hound. Strangely, she was not horrified but rather felt pity for the poor man. She knew not only from exploring his mind but from Ororo's memories that it was not him that had brutally savaged the animal but that he was shut off, overwhelmed by his dark side. Her ghostly form floated over to him and he looked up in surprise, eyes burning with rage through brown strands of hair, and hissed at her.

"Remy." She beckoned.

Remy smiled, black blood dripping down his chin. "Remy's gone," he said, turning back to continue feeding.

"You are lying." This vile thing in him disgusted her with its lies.

The vampire's eyes narrowed and it leered menacingly at her. "Who the hell are you?"

"I am Phoenix. And you are going back where you belong." With a wave of her hands, a fiery bird flew from her fingertips and dove into Remy's body, the flames freeing him from underneath the crushing hatred of the demon that had overtaken his senses. She ignored the blasphemies coming from the scorned evil's mind as it lost control to Remy and once more became the slave.

A smile touched Jean's lips as peace rested over Remy for the time being. She was becoming exhausted from her new awakening but had one more task before she returned to her rightful place.

--------------------

"Moira." A woman's voice echoed in the dark dungeon chamber to the Blessed Mother's ears.

"Bright Lady?" Moira looked up, eyes red and tears streaming down her face. Her brown hair was disheveled. She shielded her eyes as she bowed at the site of the golden shadow before her. The light almost washed out all details of the Great Faerie. "Have you come to release me?"

"No, my child. You have much to do, but your time is short if you do not act now."

"You must abandon this temple until peace settles on the land again. I have spared the man beyond this door as he is sacred to me. You will deliver him to Nymon and inform the King there that I wish for him to accompany the Queen of Elden and King of Ayden on their journey."

"My lady, what of the spirits of your children slain here?"

"They can wait, my child. If you spend too much time on the dead, there will be no more time for the living."

"As you wish my lady." Moira bowed lower, a lump in her throat, her heart aching.

"I sense heaviness in your heart, Blessed Mother. Know that there was nothing you could do and all will be forgiven if you complete this task for me. Go now, and know that my light shines upon you, child." The Great Faerie faded from sight, leaving Moira with renewed purpose.

----------------------

As she returned to her body across the forest, Jean prayed for forgiveness from Tania for her blasphemous charade. Immediately, peace settled over her. She wondered if she felt peace after her prayer out of habit or if perhaps, she had actually done the will of the Great Faerie.


	17. Unexpected Visitor

Chapter 17

The sun was beginning to set just as the allied band reached the edge of Passage River. An ironic name considering it inhibited most from entering Elden Wood. It had been a long, continuous ride and unaccustomed to long travel, Ororo was more than a little sore. Her lack of sleep the previous night did not help at all either.

Jean still slept peacefully against Hank's shoulder behind her and had not shown any improvement. At least she hadn't shown any signs of getting worse. The only difference that her face, once distorted in intense concentration had relaxed and displayed a meek smile.

"I think here would be a good place to camp for the night. It will allow the horses to pass the river with renewed energy as well as ourselves. It wouldn't be wise to brave it in the dark."

They all agreed and one by one began dismounting. As Ororo went to dismount, her legs collapsed like rubber underneath her and she fell to the ground, her leg caught in the stirrup. The wind was knocked out of her and she cursed, the sky rumbled with thunder in the distance. Nathan came to aid, knowing how exhausted she was, and extended his hand.

"Are you alright, my lady?" She pushed his hand away.

"I am fine. I'm just… argh!" Frustrated, she smacked the ground with an open palm and winced as she did so, little rocks and sticks digging into her skin. "I need some time alone." She said softly, examining her sore palm.

"That may very well be but you're not going to get much if you remain sitting." He extended his hand again. In any other situation, he probably would've laughed at the sight of her but now being able to sense her emotions, he felt sympathy. The travel to Nymon was becoming strenuous with the previous night's incident. Obviously, her pride was wounded by only the fact she was too stubborn for her own good, constantly wrestling duty and emotion.

She scowled and accepted it and he jerked her to her feet, very similar to after their spar days ago. Unfortunately, she wasn't as spry as before and stumbled into him, her legs not cooperating. He caught her and steadied her. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"I have not traveled this extensively in ages, if that tells you anything." She said curtly. "I think I am going to go relax in the river." She began to hobble to the banks and turned around again to retrieve her bags on her horse, too angry to be embarrassed. "And I expect a fire when I get back."

Nathan just shook his head as he watched her leave in amused silence, not noticing Hank had stopped his horse next to the his side. "She may hold the title of Queen but 'princess' is more like it, eh?"

"Agreed." He chuckled. "Want help there?"

"I thought you would never ask. It's not often I'm this close to a beautiful lady for so long, but I say, I think the saddle has sprouted thorns and it is time to part." He eased the sleeping Jean over into Dayspring's waiting arms and she sighed. Nathan looked at Hank with a question of doubt, fearing he had damaged her and Hank waved it off as he dismounted. "I think she has finally entered sleep, rather than full unconsciousness. No worries."

As Hank rolled out Jean's bedroll, he couldn't help but notice that his friend was fascinated with the red haired woman. "You know, someone once said, 'Each has his past shut in him like the leaves of a book known to him by heart and his friends can only read the title."** (1) **Nathan looked at Hank, surprised at his friend's notions. "I would've thought it obvious. I've noticed you watching her since the start of the trip."

"Hank, it's not like that…"

Hank raised his hand to cut the king off. "You didn't let me finish. I know you're not enamored with our red-haired beauty so much as she reminds you of someone. You don't look at her the same as you did Aliyah…" he paused at the mention of the woman's name, watching the King wince, "but you give her the look almost a child would a…"

"Mother." Nathan finished.

"Exactly." Hank examined his friend's face, gauging if he should press the issue. Nathan remained silent as he set Jean down and covered her with a blanket.

Resigning, Nathan rose and scanned the area. "We need to find firewood. I'll tell you more as we walk." Hank jumped up and dusted himself off.

"What of Ororo?"

"I'll tell the others where she is. If just to keep them from intruding on her privacy."

"I would think it might only encourage them."

Nathan smiled. "Possibly, but I pity the arrogant bastard that even attempts it."

---------------------------

Twenty meters upstream, Ororo found a calm inlet pool of water with enough brush to allow her to view the small shapes of her allies in the waning light but maintain her privacy behind fallen brush. She draped her clothes over a rock that still maintained the day's heat and dipped a toe in the water. It was icy as she expected and cringed. She summoned a gentle, warm wind and stirred the water with it, creating a small whirlpool in the area. After several minutes, she tested the water and satisfied, waded from shore.

She still shivered from the temperature. Although no longer icy, it was far from normal bathing temperature. She covered her nose and submerged herself underwater quickly to soak her hair. Re-emerging, the water tickled as it dripped down her neck as she rubbed her eyes. Opening them, she sensed a presence behind her on sure and turned, startled to see the shadow of a man on shore that strongly resembled… "Remy?" Her breath caught in her chest as she locked gaze with those piercing red eyes that burned into her. She rubbed her eyes again and the vision was gone.

Her heart sank and she scolded herself for being so tired. "Certainly there never was an elf more miserably silly than Ororo." She sighed.

-----------------------

Nathaniel Essex watched Ororo from within the shelter of the trees. On his way to the Muir Cathedral, It was by chance he had discovered her bathing in the river and couldn't resist watching. She puzzled him, this captivating woman of light that had captured the heart of evil itself. He watched her with the apathy of time afforded only to a man such as him.

She had his back to him which gave him the opportunity to jump down and head towards the rock where she had rested her clothes. He doubted it possible but thought it a good idea to check amongst her belongings for any clue of their plans.

Upon picking up her clothes, her scent wafted up to his nostrils and filled his head, catching him off guard. He could sense the purity in spirit within her and as much as he longed to taste it, it disgusted him. "_So innocent for one of her age and trials._" He heard a splash and watched her emerge from the water, silver hair slicked back against her neck.

She turned quickly and made eye contact with him, stopping his breath. An awareness invaded him that she knew he was there. He heard her whisper Remy's name, full of doubt, and just as she went to rub her eyes, he dropped her clothes back on the rock and faded into the shadows.

He marveled at her capacity to sense him which could mean only one thing: Remy had tasted her blood. _"Remy, you love-sick son of a bitch," _he thought to himself as he pondered the possibilities. An elf as a vampire was a most intriguing idea to Essex especially one as powerful as the Queen of Elden. Now the questions he had to ponder were when Remy had tasted the Queen of Elden and how much he had drawn out of her.

-------------------------------

Hank stirred the fledgling fire, grateful for the warmth it provided. He was relieved to be out of the forest, for the most part. Tomorrow they would have to traverse through the remaining length of it but aimed to reach Nymon at sundown. His mind was milling about of all that Nathan had told him of his mom. He had long known what kind of woman she was and had heard the king describe her appearance but Dayspring had always been reluctant to talk in depth about her.

His eyes wandered from Nathan's worn out gaze in the fire to Roberto and Sam carrying on a jovial conversation. He overheard them discussing what the future held for them: DaCosta wishing to travel the sea again, Guthrie wishing to return to Elden. Evidently the blonde man was enamored with an elfin girl he had met and danced with at the party. It pained his heart to know that in all likelihood, both men would not make it through the war. Lord knew he feared for himself as well.

He observed Benjamin Russel who was leaned on a tree, scanning the horizon across the river. Although a quiet man, Benjamin was nothing less than frank when he did speak. Little was known about his past but he was more than loyal to his king and actually served more as a bodyguard than a subordinate.

He heard movement and a groan behind him and turned around to see Jean waking up. He jumped up from the ground to her side and helped support her up, the King and his soldiers right behind him.

Jean brought a hand up to her forehead and rubbed her left eye with her palm.

"My lady! Are you alright? Do you need anything?" he pressed.

She yawned, almost relaxed. "Water, please." She was groggy and exhausted from all of her mental work but grateful to be in order. Sam handed her a canteen that she guzzled unabashedly. Wiping her mouth with the back of the hand, she noticed a face missing from the ring around her. "Where's Ororo?"

"Nathan, please?" Hank asked of his King as he fussed around the recovered woman.

"Right." Nathan turned on his heels in the direction he saw Ororo head 20 minutes previously.

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Ororo floated on her back in the river, her body floating as free as driftwood. She thought she heard a voice and pulled her head out of the water to listen. After several seconds, she wrote it off again to her exhaustion but decided it was time to return to her companions. She began the trek back to shore and froze in her tracks, startled, as Nathan emerged from the brush, breathless.

"Ororo! Jean! She's a…." Their eyes locked and he couldn't help but stare at her curvy, mocha body glistening in the moonlight. "...wake," he finished embarrassed before realizing he should turn around.

Ororo barely took notice of his embarrassment and walked ashore to gather her things, sloppily throwing on her purple tunic and pants. As she adjusted her belt, she said, "Nathan, do not be embarrassed. I'm sure you have seen women before."

"Women, yes, my queen. A royal lady, no." He still kept his back to her, still unable to shake the image of her from his mind.

"Then I'm revealing a long kept secret: A title does not severely alter the anatomy, I'm afraid." She gently teased before heading to camp with a satisfied smirk on her face.

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author's note: I forgot to mention that I didn't put Remy's accent in the last chapter. I need to know if I should adapt the previous chapters to reflect no accent or replace the last ones with it. I personally like it, but I've been told it's taboo in fics. What do you think? Oh yeah, and I had to have SOMEONE walk in on a naked Ororo. It's mandatory, I thought.


	18. Thicker Than Water

Chapter 18

Ororo nearly plowed over Hank as she dove at her friend, embracing her in a firm, solid hug, crying with joy. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm fine!" Jean wheezed under the pressure and Ororo released her.

"What happened? Bright Lady, I thought you were going to die! You are not allowed to die, you hear?" her eyes were glazed with tears.

Jean smiled slightly, "Understood, my lady."

--------------------------------

It had taken nearly an hour but Moira managed to roll Remy onto a blanket and drag him out of the dungeons. The man was in rough shape with two gaping wounds seeping blood. It was surprising they weren't gushing. After pulling him up a ramp into the back of the Sisterhood's hay wagon, she collapsed with exhaustion. Sweat dripped down her face and neck, arms numb from the strain. After several seconds, she continued with her work dressing his injuries by moonlight, knowing she had precious little time before the other vampire arrived again.

She hitched up the Sisterhood's only mule to the wagon and saddled up their only horse, a Freesian, with hair black as night and a mane dark enough to melt into the shadows.

The horse had been found wandering the forest un-harnessed, unmarked and yet no owner ever emerged to claim the creature so the horse had been taken in by the Sisterhood. She couldn't bear to leave it behind, for fear it would become fodder of the other vampire, so she tied it to the back of the wagon, so it could follow.

She debated whether or not to light the lamp next to the driver's seat but decided the moon was bright enough and she better not draw attention to herself. Climbing into the seat at the head of the wagon, Moira prodded the mule and they went off into the night.

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Jean relayed the past night's events, omitting certain details regarding the Muir Cathedral in particular, feeling it was not the right time. Ororo had too much on her mind and one more thing to distract her could compromise their consorts' safety. "_It's for only one more day…"_ she reasoned with herself.

Understandably, she was quite exhausted, "If you all wouldn't mind, I'd like to speak to Ororo privately." King Dayspring and his fellows dispersed without question. She leaned her head back onto the bedroll, her body relaxed, and she watched her friend lay out her bedding. "Ororo…how far are we from Nymon?"

Ororo yawned before answering. "About a day's journey. Though I am still worried we haven't run into the Jishin as Callisto warned, which of course means it will probably happen tomorrow with my luck." Her eyes were distant and Jean could tell the dark elf's mind was elsewhere. She was thinking of Remy again, and it was killing Jean to not tell her.

"What's wrong?" she feigned ignorance.

Ororo's eyes dropped in shame. "It's foolish…"

"You say that about everything."

Ororo lay down next to her friend, facing her, head resting on her hands and whispered, "I think I saw Remy tonight."

Jean's green eyed stare remained unhinged. "What makes you say that?"

"It could've just been me being tired but… when I was bathing, before Nathan retrieved me, I had this feeling I was being watched. I… I can't describe it because it was almost as if something whispered it in my ear. I turned, and in the dark, I saw his shadow and his red eyes were glowing, burning into me, I wanted to run up the banks and shout for joy but just as suddenly, he was gone, swallowed by the night." Ororo unconsciously curled up, knees up near her chin. "It haunts me to say it, but the stare was empty, devoid of any feeling. And I know it is silly to say I can get all that out of a pair of eyes, meters away but… you know my connection to him."

"Perhaps it was your eyes playing tricks on you. As you said, you have a connection to him and Lord knows you've been thinking about him non-stop."

Ororo's cheeks twinged pink in the firelight and her friend patted her hand. "Let's just make it to Nymon and we'll see how things pan out. In the meantime, I am so very tired." The sentence was punctuated with a lengthy yawn. "Sleep well, my queen and Trust Tania."

Ororo smiled at the words Jean used when Ororo had been just a child. The red haired woman had been not quite a mother to her, even though Ororo's own had died giving birth to her, but more of an older sister. Only then Jean had called her princess…"And you, my lady. And you."

-----------------

Remy wrestles in his sleep, his vision blurred by a hazy fog, all he can feel is panic, guilt, and pain. Lights are dancing before him, accompanied by hushed voices, but the fog is concealing them. Slowly, the fog creeps away and he sees figures from his past, dancing before his eyes. Faces he thought he had finally forgotten; had wanted forgotten.

A small framed blonde woman smiles at him, a smile that brings light to his heart. It is Belladonna, his wife from over 800 years ago, when he was mortal. Her smile disappears and now, she is calling to him, begging him for forgiveness but he doesn't know why.

Remy runs to embrace her, to hear her words "Belle… I can' hear you…Speak up, fille!" he shouts, his words falling on deaf ears. Red water floods in, covering her, devouring her… it's everywhere… thick as blood; her face is fading and he cannot see her anymore. Did he have something to do with her disappearance? _"But why woul' she wan' my fo'giveness?" _ He cringes at the thought…

Anna Marie steps forward. A young woman, barely 20 with a slender figure, green eyes, and rich brown hair. "Hello, Remy."

"Anna?" he whispers.

She nods. "Have you been keeping my memory with you all this time?"

He couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes, remembering their tragic encounter.

Long ago, centuries, he had taken to her. Anna was only 16, the only child of a traveling merchant. Over time, she learned to fend for herself while her father was away but the solitude had taken its toll on her. By the time she was 20, Anna never left her house unless it was for food, having become a total recluse. By this time he was well over 200 years old.

In her, he'd found a kindred spirit that needed attention, but not the attention of a normal man. He never touched her in a lovers embrace, never tasted her life, but he had touched her heart.

She thought he was a figment of her imagination, a suitor in a line of many she had concocted. "Why, Mr. Lebeau! Roses for me? You'll make the others jealous. I haven't told them yet, but you're my favorite." She whispered, fearing that whomever she had in her mind would hear her words. "If I tell them though, they'll stop coming around." She giggled and he indulged her, even going so far as telling her he was a vampire but she tossed it aside, insisting he spun the wildest tales to gain her fancy.

When her father returned to find his daughter unhinged, he left her in the care of the local convent, an order of the Great Faerie. When Remy came to visit her in the night, Anna refused to acknowledge his presence, inwardly thinking he really was a part of her imagination, muttering prayers for him to leave her be. "Please… foul devil… leave me be… torment me no longer…"

Realizing she was lost to him, he departed, leaving a kiss on her forehead, his heart heavy. "Remember me, petite. I'll always remember you." Remy left in the shadows, contenting himself to observe her from afar over time, making sure she was cared for. It was only when she found peace in the arms of death that he abandoned her.

He focuses on the apparition before him now. "I tol' y' I'd never f'get you."

"How did it feel to watch me waste away, wither and die, lonely with a broken heart?" Her face begins to age, her body shriveling as her voice rose.

"I tol' y' what I was. Y' knew…I couldn't be wit' y'… I tried…"

"Knowing and understanding are two different things! You saw me suffer and did nothing. You should've finished me off like you intended, coward. Did you really need to wait 46 years to watch me die?" With her final words, she is reclaimed by the fog once more.

A hand touches his shoulder, warm and gentle. Reluctantly, Remy looks up and is relieved to see Ororo, his dark angel. Her hair is considerably longer than he remembers, the snowy strands falling down to her waste. "Remy…"

"Ororo, please. I don' want to hear how much y' hate me."

"I don't hate you." She drops down to her knees and from behind, wraps her arms around him in a hug. "I owe you my life. No matter your past, dear friend, it will not change the fact that I lo—," suddenly her words become choked garbles.

Remy turns, fire in his eyes to see Nathaniel Essex hand gripped around her throat. With a flick of a pale wrist, Ororo's neck snaps and she hangs limp. Essex drops her body, callously kicking her to the side.

Remy dives for her body, cradling her, tears rolling down his cheeks. He holds her face against his chest, her long, white hair spilling over him. "Ororo… my li'l Stormy…"

Nathaniel wipes his hands off on his coat, as if touching the woman had brought filth to him. "I considered tasting her, to feel what you did, the power that runs through the veins of one like her. However, I think this has sense of finality, and lost ideals."

"Y' son of a bitch!" Remy spat, leaving Ororo and lunging at Essex, a venomous coursing through his body. He phases through the ethereal man, who just laughs at his attempt to harm him.

"Forget your rage; you know you can't kill me without killing yourself. Although this is just your dream, Remy, I assure you, my thoughts are very much my own. You're the one that pulled me here. I was on my way to Muir to find your dead body. However, I notice that you're still very much alive…"

"Y' don' seem disappointed."

"I had other plans for you but it was a command asked of me by my Lord. No hard feelings. Although it took the longest time for me to convince him that I couldn't do it myself, what with this curse of not being able to kill your direct heir with your own hands etc… etc... But I didn't feel he needed to know that particular weakness of mine. Besides, after tonight's events, I have a few questions to ask you. When did you taste her?" he gestured his head towards the dead elf, the braid at the base of his neck tossing over his shoulder as he did.

"Who?" Remy stared at him in defiance, knowing exactly who he was talking about. He'd be damned before he told anything about Ororo to a man like Nathaniel.

Countless seconds ticked by before Essex grabbed him by the collar, pulling him close to his face, red eyes burning into equally fiery ones, his voice husky with anger. "Do not get silent with me. I know you've had her blood on your tongue. Not only can I smell the lust for her on you but I saw her tonight. And she was very much aware of my presence which could only mean…"

"What?" His eyes were menacing but fear gripped him, knowing that Essex had lain eyes on Ororo… that he knew where she was…

Essex shoved Remy away and threw his hands up in the air, frustrated, and strangely, amused, at his progeny's boldness. "What do you think?" He began to stroke his beard. "Remy, I know you're not stupid but wisdom seems to abdicate you tonight. You forget that when I sired you, you gave up your independence. We're linked boy. And although I might not know every thought that passes through that skull of yours, you can be assured that I have my ways of finding what I seek."

"Y' can' find shit 'bout me. De guild's disbanded, an' I ain't talked t' no one in years."

Sinister smiled, revealing sharp teeth. "They wouldn't have anything that interests me anyway. However, the Queen of Elves looks most delectable. I think I will see what flavor the dark elf has to her…" Essex began to fade.

"Wait! Wait… I will tell you… just, leave her alone." Remy reluctantly admitted, bitter that Nathaniel could goad him so easily.

Nathaniel's apparition grew stronger, a smirk on his face. "It is amazing that unimaginable strength you possess to cling to your humanity is still your greatest weakness. As long as you remain a man, Lebeau, I will always own you, playing the pawns you set around yourself."

"D' y' want to know de answers or not, homme?" he said dryly.

"Of course. When did you bite her?"

"I didn'."

"If we're going back to this circle of no words and nonsense, I will leave because I have an elf to…"

"Y' asked if I bit. I didn'. Don' get mad at me when y' asked de dumb question."

"You are in no position to be smug, whelp," he said through clenched teeth, "When and how is it you came to taste her?"

"First day."

"Are you lying?" There was another silent pause as Essex searched Remy's very soul, it seemed. "No. You're not lying. Fascinating. Oh, the torture you are in must be exquisite…" he mulled. "And how?"

"Saved de femme from an armor piercin' arrow. Took it right t'rough here." He pointed at his heart. "Was runnin' on empty, so I t'ought I was done for. She saw de teeth n' eyes an' wit'out hesitation, cut herself f' me," Remy begins to recall the burning on his tongue from her blood, followed by the soothing warmth dripping down his throat… the selflessness she repaid… the thoughts and feelings within her being, passed to him through her blood… but mostly the power in her life. Torturing him yet sustaining him, giving him strength… lulling the demon and awakening his humanity.

"This is too perfect…" Essex was clearly lost in his own thoughts, as he absorbed Remy's unguarded emotions in the memory. The possibility in a new race tantalized him, preying upon elves to produce a new vampire, but what Remy was claiming fulfilled one of the prophecy's recorded by Tania's scribe, Destiny. A prophecy that did not bode well for his master, not that Essex felt obligated to inform Nur anyway…

"Y' leave Ororo alone now." Remy stated, implying no request but a demand for her safety.

"I cannot promise you anything beyond myself. I will leave her be until she's under your watch. Then it's up to you to keep me away." He faded from Remy's sight, abandoning him to the mists of his own mind.

---------------------------------

author's note: you know what's funny? When you absentmindedly change something your spell check recommends and in the final read over, you get this sentence, "Why Mr. Labia, roses for me?" Perfect LOL moment. Thanks for the patience on this chapter! I hope I delivered!

I think I fixed all the grammar errors that snuck through the first posting of this. 


	19. Passage

Chapter 19

It had been 6 hours since she left the cathedral behind so when Moira emerged from Elden wood to view the sun's rays dotting the open landscape, she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the worst was behind her. She heard a crackling, like from a bonfire, behind her and her cargo moaned slightly. She turned to greet him and the smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils.

"GREAT FAERIE!" she cursed, dropping the reins to the mule and scrambling to the back of the wagon to cover Remy with blankets. "The sun… Blast it Moira! How could ye have forgotten that? Especially when ye were just relieved the other vampire would be deterred." she muttered as she returned to her seat, out of breath. "Oh, bloody hell!" she sighed, immediately repenting for her language and using Tania's name in vain.

She observed the scene around her, no longer surrounded by the shadows of a seemingly malicious forest, but she was out in the open air, surrounded by nothing but green grass and wild meadow flowers. The sky was clear blue with the Nymon Mountains creating a majestic sight, their snow caps kissing the heavens.

Slowly, nature began to awaken around them, birds singing and various creatures peeking out of their burrows at the passing wagon. A gentle breeze fluttered through, running its fingers through the foliage and whispering around her. Peace settled on the Blessed Mother and she began to hum as they continued their journey to the city of Nymon.

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Nathan shook debris out of his worn brown leather boots before putting them on, feeling quite refreshed from his dip in the river. It had been cold from nightfall, but the air outside was warm enough to make it tolerable. The seasons were changing rapidly, airy Spring giving way to the arid Summer. And any moment he was going to be able cross the river, bidding farewell to the flonquing Elden forest and finally walk on open terrain, where nothing could lurk in the shadows.

He shielded his eyes from the sun and studied the pace of the Passage River's surface currents. The water was too deep to for the horses to cross by foot and the armor they all wore eliminated swimming. Curiously, there was no bridge in sight yet he couldn't help feeling Ororo had known that. Skipping a rock across the river's muddy surface, he wondered what Ororo had up her sleeve.

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Ororo scanned the blue, cloudless sky, searching for answers to unasked questions. Her hands absently rubbed her throat, trying to massage away unseen marks while her other hand rested on the side of her horse. She felt in her heart that Remy needed her, the feeling amplified by her disturbing dream from last night.

_She was back in Elden Palace, pacing the gardens, waiting for her love. Her silver hair was flying loosely around her, a lovely contrast against her bronzed sienna skin and silk lilac night gown. He promised to meet her here, next to the statue of the dragon. The ancient guardian of Elden. The sun has long set, eliminating the only thing obstacle keeping them apart._

_There is a scuffle behind her, catching her attention. "Remy?" she whispers. No, it was the man from the River last night. Now, in her dream, she distinctly knows a difference. This man is several inches taller with skin so pale it is white as her hair; he still maintains that air of boredom and apathy, yet, she senses hatred seething under the surface._

_The man disappears into the palace, alarming Ororo of the safety of her subjects inside. She runs to follow him, abandoning her personal obligation. As long as she is Queen, she will not put herself before her people._

_Ororo doesn't know how she knows he is in the War Room, behind the waterfall. But so is the mystery of dreams, she is drawn there. As she parts the waters, a mist rolls out of the dark passage, illuminated by light coming from the room on the other end. _

_No sooner does she set foot on the path, her attire immediately changes to her purple tunic and riding pants, clothing she is wearing on her journey to Nymon, yet her she remains unarmored. Considering the nature of her dream, she is apprehensive of the partial battle dress. Her hand falls to her side; her sword is at least present so she continues._

_As she makes her way along the walls to the room, she hears voices, voices she has never heard before; she is unable to identify the gender of the ghosts whispering malicious slanders at her. _

_One voice whispers in her ear, "Selfish child! Abandon this quest, fool! You will lead the world to its death!" while another torments, "Never, in a thousand years, will a vampire be accepted in the court of elves. He is a murderer! A traitor! A devil! He will devour your soul!" _

_Even as she reaches the fog filled room, the voices continue their hate filled taunts, making her weary and irate. This is her dream and she does not wish to be berated any longer! "Enough!" she hisses, summoning a wind to part the fog in her path, dispersing the voices. _

_Before her, Ororo sees Remy on the floor, hunched over as if he were crying. "Why is he in here?" She thinks._

_She walks carefully and rests and hand on his shoulder to comfort him, "Remy…"_

_He turns, his black irises searching her and downtrodden says, "Ororo, please. I don' wan' hear how much y' hate me."_

"_I don't hate you." She is taken aback, hurt even, by his words and drops down behind him, wrapping her arms around his body, wresting her chin on his shoulder, "I owe you my life. No matter your past, dear friend, it will not change the fact that I lo--" her words are cut off as cold, steel fingers wrap around her throat, pulling her from Remy. Instinctively she withdraws her sword and slashes at her oppressor. It is the other vampire. _

_The sword goes through the man but does no damage. She looks into his eyes and immediately notices that unlike Remy's, there is no life in them, just burning red orbs with no soul. He smiles at her, crushes her throat violently, and she wakes up._

"My queen…?" Jean touched her shoulder, causing the dark elf to jump. "I'm sorry but it is time to depart."

"Yes." She grimaced, her mind attempting to focus on her task.

She had wanted to avoid main thoroughfares, finding it the best way to avert a surprise attack from highway men while allowing them to remain out of Nur's reach. It was originally planned that Jean would provide their means across the River using her magic to form a solid bridge over the water however after the past days events, Jean found herself too weak to summon her magic beyond a whisper. She assured Ororo that she would recover over time, the battle against the King of Shadows having weakened her temporarily, but they did not have the time to spare.

Now, Ororo had to attempt to summon a focused wind to block the river long enough to allow them all to pass.

Nathan mounted his horse, greeting her, "My lady, how do you propose we cross? The water is deep and the currents strong, I fear wading is not an option." He could feel the apprehension pouring off of her and her thoughts were full of prayers to The Great Faerie, Tania.

She tilted her head, shielding her eyes from the sun, to address him. "Do not worry, my king. I have taken it upon myself to provide you and your men safe passage."

By the look on his face, she knew he had no idea how she would accomplish this. Truth be told, she didn't know either. In the past, she had surprised herself by conjuring cyclones and forceful winds. Never before had she needed to provide a concentrated, fine controlled, force of air like this. "My lord, I am venturing slightly upstream to try and stay the river long enough for you and the team to pass."

He looked at her doubtfully, her fear still lingering strongly in the air. "You do not feel confident, my queen. Are you capable…"

She smiled, tying her hair back. "I won't know until I try. Please, lead my horse with you." She tossed the leather reins up over his lap, the white horse snorted but complied, taking its place next to his steed.

"And what of you?"

She thought for a moment, realizing she hadn't thought that far, "I am not sure. I trust the Bright Lady with my safety."

Without another word, she walked off, heading upriver.

Jean rode up next to King Dayspring. "I know she is brash and confusing, my lord but under that hard shell… Ororo is a magnificent woman. If there is one thing I've learned, fear and challenge fuel her drive to succeed."

---------------

Meters upstream, Ororo studied its flow and the flow of the air around her from ankle deep water. There was s subtle breeze blowing, providing her hope that it would carry her words to Tania. She felt she would not be able to do this without the aid of the Great Faerie. Breathing in deeply, she dropped to her knees and sent her plea to her goddess. "Tania… guide your child in this task… just as you design the fates guiding our paths… guide my hand…"

---------------

Over the next several minutes, every member of the parties' eyes rested on the Queen of Elves, kneeling in prayer in the shallows of the Passage River. Some strands of her white hair escaped their place tied behind her head, spilling into the water. Her lips moved rapidly, words in Elvish spilled off of her tongue, blending invocation and commands to the spirit of the earth. A strong breeze gusted through her hair, died down, and then returned more forceful. The once clear blue sky darkened to a muddy gray, now full of menacing clouds. Magic was bleeding into the air, waking the earth.

Hank looked down and noticed goose bumps causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. The air was eerily calm around him and the others, even though he could clearly see the forming tempest around Ororo. The only two that appeared unaffected was the fire haired elf and the queen's horse. The creature was placid as a foal in Dayspring's hands, despite the other horses clearly being agitated.

He looked at King Dayspring who gave him a side glance, having not only noticed the same changes around them, but to his head as well. The energy in the air was affecting him- amplifying his magic, allowing everyone's thoughts to spill into his mind. His men thought this was insane yet held their tongues, but Dayspring, for once, knew that Ororo was very much in control, despite her admission of unease.

----------------------------

Sweat poured off of the dark elf, drenching her, as she concentrated, begging for Tania's benevolence with manic passion. Unseen by the others, a white mist crept over her eyes, hiding the crystal blue irises, clouding them with power.

The wind picked up in a roar, trees bending and creaking under the strain, ripping leaves from their lofty branches. Her whispers changed to forceful chants through clenched teeth, the winds sending her words to the heavens, still on her knees, hands shaking while clenched together in prayer. The tie that restrained her hair blew free, carried off by the straining wind.

A streak of lightning rushed from the opposite bank to the sky.

"Prepare yourselves, gentlemen…" Jean whispered, herself pleading to the Great Faerie privately.

"Oh my stars and garters…" Hank murmured as Ororo thrust her hand into the water and an invisible force simultaneously smashed into the river, shaking the earth and sending water spraying everywhere. Immediately, the water before them receded. To the left of Ororo stood a 12 meter high and rising wall of murky water, pinned behind the hand of Mother Nature.

The horses were fighting to bolt across the river bed, fear flooding their senses from the force of nature. "Hurry! She will not be able to keep this up much longer." Jean dug her heels into her horse, charging across the muddy, rock littered river bed. The men followed in her footsteps, hearts pounding with fear and minds in awe of the sight of the elf queen's power.

Over his shoulder, Nathan stared at Ororo as his horse pushed to the other side, the white Andalusian straining to pull ahead. Despite the incredible strain on her, the dark elf appeared to be smiling as she floated across the river bed, slowly following behind them on the currents of the wind.

Ororo's body was shaking uncontrollably and bringing a hand up to her face, she realized her nose was bleeding from the exertion. Still, she couldn't help but revel in the use of her magic.

The party reached the banks safely, and apprehensively waited for Ororo to cross. The wind was fading and the water was spilling around the barrier she had created, filling the river bed once more and she was little more than half way across when the wind gave out below her, forcing her to cross by foot. Wading through ankle deep water, Ororo fell, exhaustion overwhelming her. She cursed herself, stumbling to her knees into the water, angry that her body was not responding.

"Jean… she's not going to make it…" Dayspring declared, fear in his voice.

"My queen..." Jean willed her thoughts to her friend, encouraging her to continue, fearful for the struggling woman.

"No offense, but she needs more than comfort, my lady!" Nathan threw the reins of Ororo's horse to Benjamin before forcing his horse into the impending flow of the progressing river at full gait. He'd be damned if he lost Ororo under his watch, not like this.

--------------------

Ororo could faintly hear Jean, beckoning to her but she couldn't respond. Her body was useless! Panic set in as she splashed around, crawling hands and knees to the other side, the rusty taste of blood in her mouth. She tried to summon her magic, only receiving a weak breeze in response.

The elf glanced up to see King Dayspring approaching, determination in his face. The rumble of the water overflowing the weakening barrier grabbed her attention for just a second and she found herself snatched off the ground by her belt as Dayspring pulled her onto his horse in one fluid movement, all the while steering the frenzied animal back to the shore.

"Are you alright?" he shouted over the noise of the water and the horse's labored breathing. Blood was all over her face and the blue in her eyes had completely disappeared yet she remained conscious.

"I'm so very sorry, my king! It is coming apart!" she gasped as the water began to flood faster behind them. She pressed her face to his chest in fear, his armor cool against her blazing cheeks.

"My lord! Behind you!" Jean whispered in his mind, turning Dayspring's attention to the restrained water. It had completely broken free, millions of gallons of waters gushing forward in an avalanche.

"Bright Lady!" he shouted, pulling the horse to the side, attempting to cut a diagonal path and outrun the wave to the banks. The black horse ran downriver in the inches deep water, hoofs pounding on the rocky bed, muscles straining for its life and its master's; the water roared hungrily, coming in closer. Dayspring held Ororo against him for dear life and jerked the reins to his left causing the animal to close the distance and leap onto the bank of the river, the rushing waters drenching its tail as they crashed back in place, cheated.

His comrades galloped to his side, startling his already unnerved horse, sending it rearing. "Easy… easy…" he managed through gasps of breath, even though he knew exactly how it felt, and dismounted, pulling Ororo down to the grass with him.

"Are you ok, my lord? My lady?" Jean and Hank asked simultaneously, causing them to give each other surprised glances. The rest of the soldiers observed silently, though obviously amazed at what had taken place. Everyone was on taught nerves, having almost witnessed the deaths of two monarchs.

"I'm fine. I think she's fine. Just a bloody nose..." Dayspring put a hand to her forehead. "She's burning up though. Can someone hand me a blanket?"

The dark queen shuddered from adrenaline and over-exertion. She shook her head, "It'll p-pass. Th-thank you… N-n-nathan…" She managed through chattering teeth, still amazed at what had happened. He had risked his life for her.

He pulled out a rag from his saddle bag and handed it to her for her bleeding nose. He collapsed on the ground beside the snow haired elf, absorbing the warmth from the sun and allowed his heart to calm down and catch his breath. He shook his head in amazement at the river.

"That was…wow. I swear, Ororo… you're going to get yourself killed before we reach Nymon pulling stunts like that." He muttered to her, patting her back. She smiled weakly from behind the blood soaked cloth, head swimming as her body righted itself.

"Does she do this often?" he asked Jean, running his fingers through his sweat soaked silver hair. So much for his bath earlier- at least he didn't need a new pair of pants he scoffed to himself.

Jean laughed, having caught the thought. "If I told you how often, you wouldn't believe me."

"I doubt that." He groaned, pulling himself off the ground. "Can you stand on your own, my lady?" Knowing how stubborn she was, he didn't want to offend her pride anymore than he had on the trip thus far.

"I think so." She got on her knees and slowly, like a baby walking for the first time, steadied herself and rose to her feet on her own. Carefully testing her legs, she went to the edge of the now peaceful river and washed her face and hands. Satisfied, she hobbled back, offering him his rinsed off kerchief.

Half smiling, half grimacing he told her to keep it.

"Thanks. I guess." She looked at it, suddenly feeling embarrassed having handed him the disgusting thing and wrung it out before tucking it in her saddlebag to discard later. She tried to mount her horse, her leg not wanting to extend high enough to lodge in the stirrup. Sighing, she used her arm to stretch it upwards and then pulled herself up, only to have her arms give out halfway up. The horse started walking with her holding onto the saddle, one leg caught in the stirrup the other hopping feebly along to keep from getting dragged. "Help?" she asked weakly, mortified at her predicament and being thoroughly helpless to the animal.

"This appears to be a recurring pattern." Nathan said, hiding his amusement for her sake, and wrapped his hands around her hips, boosting her up on the horse, as if she were no heavier than a child's doll.

She blew a white strand of hair out of her face and turned to thank the king for his assistance. "You can laugh. It is quite funny." She smiled, finally able to appreciate a joke at her expense, knowing there was no malice behind it. _"Someone risking their life for you does alter your outlook of their person significantly,"_ she mused, her thoughts resting once more on Remy.

Situating herself in her saddle she addressed her comrades, "I still feel well enough to travel. Dayspring?"

"No complaints." He pulled himself into the saddle of his horse and stretched his arms before taking the reins.

"Then we ride. Nymon is just hours away." Her body weary but her spirit content, Ororo Munroe, Queen of Elves, inhaled deeply Mother Earth's scent and silently thanked her goddess before prodding her horse forward, leading the way to the Nymph city.

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Nathaniel Sinister Essex took refuge from the sun in the Muir Cathedral. Thanks to Remy, he nearly burnt alive out in the sun. The blasted man had summoned him through his dream, something Essex had only heard of sires doing to heralds but never the other way around. Remy was proving to have more and more surprises over time.

In the darkness, he now lay stretched out on the altar to the Great Faerie, staring at her golden effigy above his head- Tania appeared to be floating, her arms outstretched, golden hair spilling past her ankles and very much in the nude. He carefully pondered what pawns she had in this war.

Essex had observed over time that no matter what upper hand you had, there was always an opposite force working for the opposite action. And for someone as powerful as Nur, it would take the Great Faerie herself to balance the scales. "What are you doing, my lady? What are you assembling that would require the likes of Lebeau?" He understood the elf queen's role; she was the center of everything, the gravity pulling everything into place. The elves were to provide the magical front against Nur's mages, no doubt.

Still, she was wearing a sword in Remy's dream. The woman had battle experience, yes, but decades had gone by. Did she really have the heart of warrior after all this time?

Essex had been aware she was fully conscious and not a puppet of Lebeau's mental machinations, unlike those harpies the ingrate always conjured to torture himself. The man was a ghastly mess of broken glass inside yet still, that dark skinned, fair haired elf managed to reach him. And when Nathaniel tried to remove her,

He pulled himself off of the altar and made his way to the dungeons to survey the damage.

The human, King Dayspring, was still lost on him. He understood the animosity between Nur and Dayspring, one standing for light, the other darkness. In his youth, Dayspring had foiled a few raids of Nur's on neighboring cities which fueled the feuding even more. Dayspring was older, approaching 50 but still remained relatively youthful. His gut told him not to underestimate the man.

But Lebeau… this was another twist. Especially when the man admitted he had tasted the young elf's blood and an elf Halfling was destined to bring demise to Nur. None was known to exist but… could Remy be the one to provide the end of the tyrant? All he would have to do is succumb to his desires and Ororo would be transformed. No, it seemed too simple because he could easily do the same thing if he desired. This one was walking around somewhere, already, maybe even unaware of their situation but he doubted it.

There were still missing pieces of the puzzle floating beyond his grasp.

Essex reached the bottom of the stairs to the second dungeon and smiled, almost filled with pride, as he took in the scene. To his right lay the mangled mess of what used to be the hell hound inhabited by the King of Shadows. Almost every bone in its body misaligned, covered in blood, and it had 2 distinct puncture marks on its neck. "So this is how you stay your cravings for her…" He murmured. It only made sense, having to feed on something so powerful...

He sniffed the air. Remy's blood was still here, a lot of it. His lip curled mischievously as he walked over to the wall of broken bars noting that the man must have been impaled on them. The blood was still wet from not only the damp air but the fact that vampires blood did not coagulate. Removing his glove, he wiped some off onto his index finger, disgusted with what he was about to do- the taste of old blood could be likened to that of curdled milk- but resigned the information gained worth it. Thoroughly appalled, he placed the finger in his mouth and tasted the memories of Remy Lebeau.

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When Remy awoke, his first thoughts were how comfortable the bed underneath him was. The next thought was the realization he was in a bed. The scent of cedar and sage filled his senses and he opened his eyes, despite the jarring pain throughout his body begging him to sleep more.

Heavy red velvet curtains hid the sunlight, with the only light emanating from the fire blazing strongly in the hearth. The room was unseasonably warm from it. His eyes darted above the flames to see a Red and Purple tapestry above the mantle. Upon seeing the royal crest, he knew exactly where he was, and comforted, immediately succumbed to his fatigue.

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This LONG chapter dedicated to Wahinetoa, Kendrat199, and Darlin for sticking with me since the beginning. Also, thank you to my new readers who saw the 18 chapter list and didn't run screaming- you are the brave souls fuel writers like me.


	20. Nymon

Chapter 20

_Author's note: I would like to address that in Mythology, nymphs are only female. However, to adjust for the race in my story, I took mondo artistic liberties_.

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Waiting in the foyer of the palace of Nymon proved to take more of a toll on Ororo's patience than any hindrance on the whole trip. Her feet tapped anxiously on the rosy marble floor as she waited for the guard to verify that the King would accept her in his courts. Not that she had any doubts, but two decades provided fuel for her imagination as to all that had changed or stayed the same of the King and his court.

She had noticed on their arrival that the outer stone walls surrounding the castle still bore gouges and scrapings from the war, the main breaches had been repaired, oddly smooth compared to the older portions, but the older segments resurrected strong memories. The sound of rocks thundering on the outside of the wall, metal on metal, screams, her body already wracked with exhaustion became rejuvenated with adrenaline as her heart pounded and almost the very taste of the field that day found its way to her tongue through memory…

There was the even tread of foot steps, light and nimble, echoing down the hall before a pale, small framed woman with brown hair, blue eyes, and rosy cheeks curtsied to the group. Ororo recognized her immediately but held her tongue, having no fondness for the woman, but the feeling was perfectly mutual.

"Welcome. I am Wanda, princess and daughter of King Lensherr, our Lord here in Nymon. You have my most sincere apologies for your wait, but the King was not fully prepared for your visit." She smiled at King Dayspring, raising an eyebrow, "But he will see you now."

They followed the princess down the corridor she had emerged from, feet whispering across an seemingly endless red carpet, stone pillars stretching more than 3 times their height to the ceiling and various paintings and ornamental armors framing the corridor.

Nathan studied Wanda as he followed. Human knowledge of Nymphs was completely limited and had long alluded to the race being miniscule in size, no more than waist high. Although, when he found out about Ororo helping defend Nymon against the demon invasion, he found it difficult to imagine her in a sea of knee high creatures, especially considering the images he recalled from he and Jean's unfortunate magick session days past.

Wanda paused and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter the throne room, eyes still fixated on Dayspring and displaying a tight lipped smile. "Does it surprise you to know we could pass for human?" she asked with her mind, catching him off guard with the loud thought.

"How did you…" he began before being cut off by a booming voice in the primary chamber.

"What an unexpected yet pleasant surprise. Is this the queen of Elves gracing my court?"

The King of Nymon stood tall, broad shouldered, with kind blue eyes. Dressed in elaborate crimson and indigo robes, a golden circlet rested on a head of silver hair with length that rivaled Ororo's. He appeared to be no older than Nathan but in fact was no younger than 400 years.

"Is it really you, Ororo? You've grown into such a ravishing woman!" He wrapped his arms around her, laughing at her discomfort from being removed from the ground. "If I had known that gangly, impudent whelp would turn into this, I would have requested you be my bride back then, no matter Pietro's objections at the time." Ororo's cinnamon cheeks became hot, remembering Erik's son's brief infatuation that amounted to nothing, and he kissed her hand.

"I do not think he had any objections after finding out I was a less than demure."

"The boy always did have rocks in his head, but you appeared to make it clear you were spoken for." Erik winked at her playfully then turned to Nathan with an appraising look, "And who is this you are running with now? I dare say, a stark contrast to--"

"This is King Nathan Dayspring of Ayden, my lord." Ororo interrupted, not allowing Remy's name to leave the King's lips. Nathan bowed to the monarch, his eyes not lowering. "Nathan, this is Erik Magnus Lensherr, King of Nymon and famed metallurgist."

Magnus was less than willing to return the reverence but did so out of politeness. The transparent gesture did not go unnoticed, putting Nathan at unease. The older man returned his attentions to Ororo. "As much as I would love to catch up on the past 20 or so odd years, I cannot contain the surprise I have waiting for you."

"How did you know we were coming…"

Lensherr raised a hand gently to quiet her. "Only this morning did your present arrive by way of the Blessed Mother of Muir Cathedral. It seems she was given a command by Tania herself to deliver something to aid you on your quest. I dare say, I am surprised by the goddess' choice but I believe you will not be disappointed."

Jean shifted slightly, trying her best not to smile at the King's insinuation of a 'gift'.

Ororo bit her lower lip in thought.

"My lady, considering it is exclusively for you, I would beg your companions' forgiveness as I escort you to the east chambers you are familiar with?" He extended a hand to her which she accepted, her slender brown fingers being enveloped by his large gloved hand. "Wanda, will you please make sure our guests are cared for properly?"

"As you wish, Father." The brunette girl nodded, stepping forward.

Ororo locked eyes with Nathan and suddenly felt riddled with guilt, her hand falling from Lensherr's. Their business in Nymon was her primary obligation. "My lord, I am afraid I must decline. There is too much to discuss and I do not feel as if I am up for much joviality until my worries are addressed."

Erik's reluctance to agree was more than obvious, "Well… although I most definitely believe otherwise, it would not make a gracious host of me to ignore the lady's request. Do you not wish to at least be settled in your quarters, Ororo?"

"You will keep pushing, will you not?" she smiled warmly and he shrugged. "It is that backhanded sneakiness that will cause me to avoid this gift as long as possible, just to keep you in anticipation's vice."

"Impudent as ever and you will suffer for it. Let you all bear witness that she has no right to complain for postponing the inevitable." Erik addressed the accompanying party. "Very well. Wanda, at the very least, please escort King Dayspring and his companions to their rooms, as well as Ororo's lady in waiting. I wish to catch up on lost time with the Queen of Elden but dinner will be served in less than an hour. And then, we may converse business."

Wanda obeyed and addressed the guests, "Your things will be sent up by way of servants, so do not fret. Right this way, please."

Erik watched silently as everyone exited the throne room. He couldn't help noticing Ororo fidgeting uncomfortably, something that truly was a rarity of not only a queen, but the Ororo he had known ages ago. Her tongue was still sharp, no doubt, but the woman who spat upon kings and decimated legions was replaced by someone with the insecurities of a juvenile, not an accomplished warrior, or perhaps these things were only just now catching up to her, having been suppressed for so long.

He wondered if the woman who had the audacity to insist keeping company with a vampire in his very court was weighing her current judgments more carefully, but primary concern, however, did not rest with the company she kept in her past, but the company she kept in the present

Erik cleared his throat, "Ororo, a private word, please."

"Of course."

He led her through a door on the left wing of the main hall, gingerly shutting the door, yet still garnering a resounding echo as it closed. The room was small, a private chapel with only room enough to seat the royal family. A stain glassed effigy of Tania glowed from the outside sunlight hitting the panes.

"I want you to know, that there is no need to discuss anything of wars between us. You know my debt to you is incalculable and you have my undivided loyalty and resources at your disposal. No matter the cost, I will support you but I do not know if I can whole heartedly support who you are aiding."

She turned, piercing blue eyes glinting with that familiar challenging fire forming that he was all too acquainted with, "What do you mean?"

"Consorting with humans. Forgive my forwardness, but it is beneath you, my lady."

"Excuse me?" her eyes widened, her temper flaring.

King Lensherr almost couldn't fight the smirk forming at the corners of his lips at her predictable reaction to guidance against her will, "They are a primitive lot, barely surpassing barbarians. Your ancestors were nearly wiped out by their kind's intolerance and bigotry and you pay tribute by allying yourself with them?"

"I came here for your help, not your condolences of those long dead. In case you haven't noticed, Erik, En Sabah Nur is building his armies, having already decimated most of the southern kingdoms. That insufferable tyrant isn't discriminating with his butchering so why should I in my alliances?"

The King brought a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose, brow furrowed in frustration. He owed her dearly and could not be offended by her arrogance but clearly, age had not softened her stubborn edge. He placed a fatherly hand on her shoulder, "Ororo, I know nothing I say will change how you think or what you do. You have earned where you are today, and I do not expect you to understand things you have not witnessed…" he gave her a knowing glance, silencing any protestations she was ready to voice. "But you must heed the words of your friends, use them as cautionary guides. Perhaps I was overzealous in my admonishment… but you appear to be painfully unaware of Dayspring's father. Do not shun things you are ignorant to and do not trust that all things are what you make of them, some things and people can be taken at face value, others hold darker secrets than you cold imagine."

Ororo calmed herself slightly, curious of why Dayspring's father was such a sore point but decided it was a question for none other than the King of Ayden himself, "I will heed your words, sire, but it would be best if you mind your tongue around my companions. Regarding my fellow monarch's heritage but also his medical advisor's."

"I do not understand."

"Hank is a Barbarian, my king. I made the mistake of insulting him already, and would like to save you the faux paus."

"Vampires, Human, Barbarians… Ororo, what is next, dragons?" He teased good naturedly, easing the tension.

"Whatever Tania gives me I will accept without question."

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_150 miles away… _

The scene is that of death and destruction, bathed in the waning light of the sunset. Fractured remains of the human city, Travent, lay in ruins at the base of a cliff, smoke billowing off of the destroyed buildings, carrying the smell of charred flesh to two figures, a man and a silver wolf, she in mournful silence, the creature howling in unimaginable pain.

The woman stood 5'8", with flowing purple hair waving in the wind and purple eyes to match, clad in a scarred leather bodysuit, sleeveless and legless and a crisscross of buckles along the back. Her skin bore black bands tattooed around her arms and legs, and a red tattoo sits over her left eye, each the markings of a warrior.

After several minutes, the distressed creature ended its cries and rested upon its haunches, the fur covering its body receding into its skin, the wolf frame shrinking in the waist and widening at the shoulders, muzzle flattening and morphing to the form of a human man.

Fully transformed, her male companion barely reached her shoulders in height. Black and silver hair covered his head, swept back to points on either side of his head and his clothing now hung on him as tattered rags.

Of small frame, but solid as stone, his body showed a mess of pale, jagged scars from many wars and deadly blows, injuries that would have killed normal humans. His eyes, a cold gray, scanned the scene below as he sniffed the air for any clue that may answer the question of what had happened.

A low growl erupted from his throat as six bone claws popped out of the backs of his wrists, three protrusions from each hand. There is always a burning pain as they exit his skin, but in a twisted way, he enjoys it. It is a constant reminder of what he could be: not a harmless dog but a savage creature with insatiable bloodlust, and oddly, the pain keeps him sane.

Usually.

The rage he feels right now burns to escape. His joints ache and so do his fangs, fighting to grow, to change completely. He can already feel the hair prickling once more on his back and his spine beginning to twist to a new form as he fights to control his body.

The woman, more than aware of his struggle, calmly placed a slender hand on her husband's shoulder. "I understand your anger, Logan m'love but I am still here with you. We must head down and search for survivors… as I fear we are the only ones left to exact vengeance." Her voice is firm but her body language emanated sorrow. He wondered how she could remain standing in her grief. Her words and touch are enough to stay the beast.

For now.

"Y' don't actually think … they could've…"

"Not a chance." She held back her tears. Tears of anger, sadness, and guilt. If they had stayed behind… maybe… just maybe, they could have done something and she wouldn't be facing her greatest fear: discovering the broken body of their only son lying in the rubble. "James, beautiful little James." She whispered.

She wondered if it was that fear that forced her magick to exhaust at the top of the cliff, where there were no shadows to travel along to reach Travent.

He could smell fear and doubt all over her and reached out, taking her slender hand in his large callused one, the most simple of gestures to show his love and support. A tear slid down her cheek and she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in the top of his head, not wanting to let go of the one piece of reality that was constant for her. She breathed deeply of his scent- a mixture of sweat and nature- one many found appalling but she loved with no end.

The man held her tight and rubbed her back with his hand. "S'ok Betts. We'll go down n' find someone. I swear on my life, Nur will pay. I doubt the whole world is going to just go belly up without a fight."

"Your life and mine." Forcing her tears away, she gathered him into a passionate kiss. "Let's go."

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_Nymon_

Locking the door behind her to the bath chamber, Ororo began to relax, finally able to enjoy a moment to herself and collect her thoughts. The arduous trip, though actually enjoyable, was causing her to become crankier from the lack of personal space. She had found herself practically begging the Great Faerie to grant her cause to escape the banquet.

It wasn't the late hour, she was more than used to long nights anymore, but all curiosity of the 'gift' from Lensherr having escaped long ago, she had become apathetic as time wore on, she had no appetite since the start of the evening, and an unnerving restlessness to get away from everyone and everything that had a pulse.

The wonderful solitude of a private hot bath was more than welcome to her. Whatever present was waiting in her bedroom would be able to wait another hour while she relaxed.

The first thing Ororo did was pull open the windows to allow the night to enter the room as well as give her view of the waxing moon, and then proceeded to read over the toiletries on the nearby shelf, locating her old favorite, a small mesh bag of foaming salts.

Just like the palace, next to nothing had changed in this ancient bathroom, although the room was certainly grand as it was old. The tub lay sunken in the granite floor, a beautiful mosaic of mermaids formed from blue, gold, and green tiles and one large golden fixture curved over the edge of the tub, flanked by four mermaid sculptures on all sides of the tub, each holding a golden conch shell.

She tossed the bag of foam salts into the bath and turned the golden handle on the main faucet. Instantly, soft blue lights from the tiles on the tub floor began to glow, reacting to warmer temperature of the water cascading from all of the main faucet and each mermaid's conch shell, the lights reflecting in the water and sending glowing webs dancing on the large oak beams set in the ceiling above her.

Ororo gingerly removed her dirt stained violet tunic, discarding it by the side of the tub along with her black pants, leather boots and sword which was partially out of its scabbard. Pulling the leather string from her hair, she allowed the platinum locks to tumble down her back freely, a much softer contrast than the harsh wool of her tunic. Lastly, she untied the knot on the front of her gray and silver brocade corset and wriggled out of it, thankful to be rid of restrictive device.

Standing before the full length mirror, she was briefly reminded of how much she had changed since her last visit to Lensherr's palace. She no longer had short boyish hair and had indeed gained the curves and poise of a woman. A queen. Inwardly, she mourned her age, longing for the days as a princess on the run.

She turned away from the mirror, disgusted with her evolution. The bath was nearly full so she turned the faucets off, dipping her foot in the glowing sudsy water, becoming almost hypnotized by the steam wisps brimming from the surface. On a whim, she jumped in with abandon, submerging herself fully, the heat of it rushing over her in a cleansing wave. A brief moment, she wondered if she could stay under there forever, protected in her watery cocoon, eyes and ears closed to all worldly matters.

Her lungs begged to differ.

She broke the surface, taking in a big gulp of air she rubbed her eyes roughly, not even bothering to open them and wrung her hair out, lifting it out of the water over the gold rim of the tub as she rested her back against it, listening to the rhythm of her breathing.

It was then first waves of panic set in, bringing a cold sweat, goose bumps prickled up her arms. At first she thought it was the frigid breeze blowing through the open window, but no matter what her mind told her, her heart said otherwise.

One glance at her sword, the metal now glowing a brilliant white and humming softly with energy, and she couldn't deny it. The blade only reacted that way when demons lurked nearby. Only one demon came to mind.

Ororo crawled out of the bath, stretching across the cold stone floor, pulling the sword fully from its sheath and re-submerged herself in the tub, shivering slightly as the hot water touched her cold skin, and kept the sword hidden in the glowing milky water, fingers clenched tightly in their familiar grooves around the handle, muscles taut with trepidation.

She murmured a prayer and closed her eyes tightly, afraid that her might betray what she felt, afraid it was just another dream but the distance had been to great, and the cause too long absent for her not to know…

_He_ was here.

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YAY! I FINALLY UPDATED! WOOT WOOT WOOT! (does the hamster dance). I'm sorry (as always) to everyone reading this, it's a long train running but it's chugging once more. I hope the other drabbles I've smacked together in the meantime have been able to stave off the angry mobs :p

Leave suggestions, puzzlements, and other various rabbles and corrections- I'll reply to them all.

Head count! Who's appeared in the fic so far?

Achmed El-Gibar, Storm, Gambit, Cable, Phoenix, Shadowcat, Cannonball, Shatterstar, Sunspot, Beast, Marrow, Wolverine, Psylocke, Magneto, Scarlet Witch, Moira Mactaggert, Madelyne Pryor, Callisto, Mystique, Rogue, Bella Donna, Apocalypse, Mr. Sinister … have I forgotten anyone? Because I am going to have a hell of a time keeping these all together and giving them action time ;) Hence, the Epic- ugh! hehe


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